Leaderboard


Popular Content

Showing content with the highest reputation since 04/21/2018 in all areas

  1. 4 points
    It was a beautiful day in Elwynn Forest. The birds were chirping, the cows were mooing as they wandered about unfettered... and the sewer crocodiles that had escaped to the sewage pond outside of Stormwind dragged a particularly careless one to its untimely death. At one of the local farmsteads, a seasonal worker was getting fired. Amidst the relative tranquility and the goings on of the kingdom's residents, a newcomer marched with purpose down the road. With eyes that gleamed with ferocity, upturned nose held high, and scales that shined in the sun, a brown spotted colored Sethrak moved towards the city's gates with purpose! Only to come face to face with a patrol of mounted riders, tasked with protecting the kingdom from the Horde and other threats who had, as of late, invaded and sowed chaos at an unacceptable rate. "HALT, SNAKE!" The patrol's captain motioned for his soldiers to stop, and halfway surround them, "You will go no further!" "HOW DARE!" The Sethrak yelled back, its neck instinctively flattening to make the back of its head and neck wider... presumably to look fierce, "Hoomans go away! I has messij for king!" There was an awkward moment of silence as the captain was... in essence dumbstruck with how spoken words could somehow be misspelled, but he pushed the befuddlement aside, "Stand down and surrender, and you will not b-" "GO 'WAY HOOMAN! AM DANGRUS!" The Sethrak huffed and puffed breaths in, and began to hiss, "EMPIRE DEMANZ SURR-ENDR!" "...um, sir?" One of the rookie patrolman spoke up after another few moments of awkward, befuddled silence, "What is it doing?" "How am I supposed to know? You and you, get off your horses and arrest it." The captain pointed to the rookie and one other guard, who looked at each other, shrugged, and dismounted. "NO TUCH!" The Sethrak hissed louder, tensing a puffing up even more, "I BITE!" The rookie and his partner, despite being faced with this... weird unknown, couldn't help but snort as a laugh escaped them. Undeterred, they began to approach, which caused the Sethrak to become even more defensive, coiling back into a defensive posture until!... ...it collapsed to the ground in a hissing, writhing heap. "What in the... Sir?!" One of the still mounted guards looked alarmed, concerned, but ultimately confounded as she watched the snake man flail about in the dirt in what looked to be a horribly acted death-throe. The guards backed up their horses, but otherwise all stayed where they were, as for the next minute or so the snake person kept on its death act, until finally laying still in a contorted pose... mouth agape, and forked tongue lolling off to the side. "I've had enough of this. Get that damn thing to the stockades and make SI:7 deal with it." The captain annoyedly ordered, turning his steed around back to the city gates, and motioning for the other mounted guards to follow. "You heard 'im." One of the dismounted guards went over, grabbing the Sethrak by its robe collar to try and force it to stand up, but finding it floppy and limp, though not in an actually dead way. Starting to get irritated, he tried to force it to turn over, only to express further frustration as it flipped back belly up, and did it again when he tried to right it once again. "For the love of the light, just throw it over your horse and let's go." "arrrggghh.... no tuch!" The Sethrak quietly hissed and muttered, oofing as it did get thrown over the back of one of the patrol horses, to be carted away into the city's gates, oggled at by the city's denizens, and then locked up to be attended to later.
  2. 4 points
    Hello TNG, After many years of work, I have finally published my first book. If you enjoyed Copper Kisses in Nether Legends or First, Do No Harm, you might enjoy Claim Sanctuary. Unlike my TNG threads, the book was actually edited. It is available on all Amazon Kindle marketplaces in digital form (US$3.98), and also in Paperback (with complimentary e-copy) on selected marketplaces (US$15.99). I have always valued the input of the community here, and while this work is not related to World of Warcraft, I would be very gracious to have anyone read Claim Sanctuary and provide a review on Amazon--even if you hate it! if you are interested, I can provide you with a PDF copy of the book at no charge. If you would like to participate, please email me at danegreenbooks@gmail.com or talk to @Nathandiel on the TNG discord. My very best regards, Nathandiel
  3. 3 points
    Hey all, I've added two new themes to the boards. I have arbitrarily made the Horde one the default, but there is an Alliance version also. I am leaving the green Legion and default White there for others who either don't like change or dark colored forums. Let me know (screenshot if you can) if you find an area where the text on background doesn't have enough contrast to be able to read it. I've gone through a bunch of the pages and I've fixed the things I've found so far. Happy new expansion! To change your theme, go to the bottom center of the page --> Theme --> pick one.
  4. 3 points
    The wolf is right. Being Grim requires caring intensely. I didn't like that description initially, but there is core truth to it. It doesn't require caring intensely about others, but it does require a fanatical dedication to the goal. I'm not sure the girl has that. All she has is the sense of a debt owed. Paying debts is not all there is, and it's certainly not enough to make one Grim. Is there a test that can force her to care? And her sense of Peace... I see the pattern, though I'm loath to admit it to others. If I'm choosing alcohol, it's because my own failure has been too fierce to set aside. That's what I'm not going to spill. I'm not going to admit something is my fault without considerable duress. I've failed again if she doesn't have the sense to keep that version of Peace to herself. Let's hope she shares that definition of peace with Awatu. He'll be impressed, I'm sure. Accept the Peace that those among us who believe in it desire. Accept it for what it is. And while they travel the endless road to their dream, enjoy the annihilation along the way. But you still need to accept and praise appropriately the Peace in public, or the entire structure falls apart. It's better that Syreena doesn't trust me. I was uncomfortable enough that she trusted me with what she gave me. If there's anyone who should know better, she should. And yet? All evidence seemed to point to the contrary. It's odd then, that while I got what I wanted, something seems off about the entire debacle. Does she even acknowledge what else I could have done with the power I had? Does she even care that it was less an outright lie and more a bending of the truth? She was absolutely responsible for the death of a Grim. It was just a brief death of a priest with priestly connections who never would have let her soul drift away for something as pathetic as an overly enthusiastic beatdown. There was just enough truth in my lie that I could have played it for a very long time. I could likely have played it long enough to end her if that had ever been my goal, but it was not. My goal was confession. I got my confession. That game is over. I respect her incentives, despite how misguided they were, but she thought they were worth following for the same reasons that she is willing to take on puppets where I am not. She had a right to be angry at my lies, whether they were based in truth or not, but it's not like she never lied to me. We lie to each other, all day every day. It keeps us going. The truth is inherently boring when not being manipulated to interesting ends. But her anger should have been tempered by how little I asked of her, how little I toyed with her. Was it? Would she have done worse if I hadn't kept the truth in the fiction to myself? I could have killed her with that weapon. That was never my intent, and she should see that. She should know that now, that her death, her punishment is not something I will ever aim for, because if I wanted it, I could have had it with ease. She should understand that now. But something tells me she doesn't. All she holds against me now is my falsehoods, not my reasons for telling them. Why do I even care? I don't. It's better when none of them trust me. They'll treat me as they should when I'm untrustworthy. I don't like the expectations that come with trust. Tradire has... no idea what she's doing. I still don't believe I can give her what she wants. As much as she lies about what that is, I think she believes her own lies. But I do think she wants more than a shield. She wants conversation and there she takes advantage of the words that are my weakness. She wants knowledge, and though I do believe her when she says that desire is limited, I don't think it's quite as muted as she would insist. I also think she wants knowledge I cannot give her, or that my version of it is twisted and broken, and to share it with her would only cause harm. What she wants she should really be getting from someone else, someone... softer in the ways she is, someone sheltered enough to still believe in possibilities that have long since been erased from me. I've at least made it clear what lines I will not cross. And I haven't decided what I will or will not admit to in honor of her game, which makes most conversations where she becomes the subject incredibly awkward, but at least said game seems to be succeeding where it concerns my accepting my role.
  5. 2 points
    The constant pounding filled her ears. Julilee lifted her head as the wind rose for a moment, letting it catch the loose strands of pale hair around her face. Beneath her feet, the coarse sand shifted, cut into strange shapes and angles. It was dyed orange and red in the early morning light, and she turned her head to look behind her briefly at the rising sun. The sky, also red and orange and pink, was always a welcome sight, even after having been back aboveground this long. Then she turned her attention back to what lay before her. The pounding was the combination of the screaming, stomping audience and drums. The sands were the floor of the arena and weren't just red from the sunrise, but from dried blood, and were grooved not by the elements but by battles. The sun was rising over the bleachers and the match was about to begin. She drew Mercy. The sword gave away her identity to those who recognized its jagged silhouette, but that turned out to be vanishingly few. So far, she could count them on one hand. Memories were short in war. The white mask that covered the lower half of her face did enough to disguise her identity otherwise, along with the absence of any of the other features that had once marked her identity, such as her once-dark hair, former purple armor, and tabard. Mostly the tabard. That had been the majority of what people had ever seen when they looked at her anyway. To be fair, she was the one who had redesigned it and raised its banner once more. "Juriel! Juriel!" Now she let her image become whatever it may. The gate across the arena opened with slow, menacing clanks that were nearly drowned out as the crowd rose in volume commensurately. Juli stood waiting, the tip of Mercy pointed at the sand. She held it in one hand and nothing in the other. Carrying a shield would only burden her now. The creature that came out was not one of the largest she had faced. The mad brutosaur had been that, and it had cemented her as the preeminent fighter in this arena circuit. But it was one she had never fought before. It slunk out, wary of the noisy crowd and bright, open space, but soon focused on Juli. And then it was followed by another. Two adversaries. The crowd, thrilled by this twist, became all but deafening. The creatures' blue-gray bodies were lined from nose to tail-tip in spikes, and long tusks protruded from their mouths. Their forequarters were heavily muscled for digging, pouncing, and shredding, but their lean bodies were built for speed nonetheless. Lean, but at least twice her size in weight and mass each. Sabertusks. Julilee was given pause as she studied them, knowing that Zandalari druids took on the same form, but in a few moments it became apparent that there was no hint of sentience in these beasts. They circled her warily, moving instinctively as a pack to take down the first edible thing they had seen in days. Juli continued standing still, only turning her head slightly as one circled behind her. When it thought it had the advantage, it pounced. She heard the crunch of sand and moved as it did. She threw herself into a backwards roll that was diagonal to the beast's trajectory. Tucked low to the ground, her relatively small size played to her advantage as she passed underneath the beast. As she rolled, she whipped her blade up and across its belly. There wasn't enough clearance to get the strength behind the thrust to disembowel the thing, but bright red blood spattered over her white, gold, and dark gray armor. The beast shrieked. As it landed and whipped around with shocking speed to lunge for her, paws as massive as her head with claws that long again coming at her face, she was only just pushing herself into a crouch on the sand. There simply wasn't enough time to dodge again. Her empty arm came up to block. It would have done absolutely nothing to save her if not for the Light that blazed into existence around it. The crowd roared in vicious delight as the large beast collided with the shining barrier, its sheer mass pushing her back a dozen meters and leaving a deep furrow in the sand, but she kept her feet under her. After the beast jumped away to seek a new opening, the creature not yet slowed by the shallow gash that bled fresh red onto the sands, she rose unharmed and allowed the shield to dissipate. The other beast, more cautious than its partner, did not yet make a move, only prowling along the side of the clash. The horn on its nose was broken, it was a darker blue-gray, and it was slightly smaller, though not by much. As Juli watched them stalk her, she wondered what had brought them to the attention of the arena organizers. Had they preyed on townspeople? Ravaged local livestock? Or had it just been the appeal of a matched pair? "Juriel! Juriel!" The crowd was insistent. It wanted blood, hers or the beasts', it didn't care. She had learned it thrilled to either, though this had not really come as a surprise. As much as they had loved her rise to underground fame, it would love her downfall just as much. She had seen the betting odds and knew many had no qualms about betting on the latter every match, if not more and more eagerly with every victory. She made good money off those bets. The sabertusks were too fast for her to try to take the offensive. Unlike the brutosaur, they could turn on a dime and rend with those deadly claws as fast as she could blink. If she gave them the slightest opening, they would seize it, and her by the throat. She would have to wait for them to come to her to try to find an opening, and the crowd communicated its disapproval of her patience as she continued to let the beasts circle her, though this time she slowly turned to keep them in sight as much as possible. Trying to urge action, the drum players increased the tempo. It was effective on everyone but those battling in the arena. The crowd grew more frenzied; someone threw a rock that landed with a thud in the sand not far from Juli. From somewhere, she could hear Tetsujin hollering directions at her. She didn't take her eyes off the beasts, nor they theirs off her. The two beasts started to circle closer. She knew the moment they decided to attack. This time, the sabertusks moved together.
  6. 2 points
    They emerged onto a large balcony. It jutted over the edge of the tier and had a view of a section of the city, as well as the jungle-covered inclines that lay beyond. Further out, the jungle appeared to melt into swamplands. Pterodons wheeled overhead, and the sounds of the city drifted upward. Kex'ti stepped up to the railing and wrapped his grip around it. Juli looked at his hands, seeing the finger he was still missing, and the ring he still wore. "Are you happier here?" she asked, remaining behind and to the side of him. He didn't answer the question, because since when did he answer any question that made him slightly uncomfortable. Instead he tried to find the words to speak of what preoccupied him the most about her reappearance, in his meandering way. "Last I heard, you had been lost in Silithus. And it was not someone from Sanctuary that told me this, but... I am tremendously relieved that you are alive, and were not lost to that cursed place." He grimaced. "I'm sorry if you were worried," Juli said. "It wasn't intentional." "What do you want from me, Juli?" he asked simply. He turned and scrutinized her. She didn't know what he was looking for. Any sign of the taint of the Void? She knew he feared that above anything else. Any hint of the woman he had loved, and who had loved him? She knew it wasn't there in her eyes anymore, whatever he had once seen, though it could very well have as much to do with the knowledge in his gaze as the knowledge in hers. The time they had spent apart had been instructive to them both. If you set someone free and they don't return, that means you were only holding them back. "I wanted to say I'm sorry I never loved you as much as you loved me," she said. He was floored. All he could say was, "What happened to you?" She moved up to the railing beside him and folded her arms on it, looking out but not really seeing anything. Her mind went back to the moment everything changed. The six months that followed had changed her too, but not as much as that moment had. "I came face-to-face with the Void, and it... made me see things differently. I was almost lost to it, Kex'ti. I'm sorry I never really, fully understood your aversion to it before. In the end I had two choices: the Void or the Light. I chose the Light and survived." At her hip, Mercy glowed softly with its jagged lines of gold energy that were no longer just energy. Now the purified weapon glowed with the Light, and so did she. It shone in her eyes and flowed through her constantly, an aura she couldn't turn off. The goblin hadn't been wrong. She was a paladin now. Kex'ti's expression softened. He hadn't missed the difference in her. "I am glad you made the right choice." He thought for a moment, then said, "You do not need to apologize. Love is not a matter of magnitude... and I do not even think it is true. We both made errors in our relationship. Am I happier? No. I am not. But I am also less sad, and frustrated." "You're kind to put it that way," she said. "But I think we both know it was my fault it didn't work. I just want you to know I don't blame you." There it was. She had said it, most of it. She had walked straight out of hell and to him because nothing had mattered more than lifting whatever she could of the burden that she had so unfairly placed on him. If she had died down there, her ghost would have been haunted with the knowledge of the guilt she had inflicted on him, unjust and undeserved. Looking at him, she wondered if it helped. He didn't look dumbstruck anymore, just calm. Maybe it would sink in over time. "I appreciate that. I hope things have improved for you since Sanctuary. I do not imagine it has without you." He lifted a hand from the railing and put it back, watching the birds. "Are you happier?" "I only just got back," she said. He didn't know how true that was. "This is the first thing I'm even doing. Next will be Rylie... if I can communicate with her safely." He nodded. "That is a large part of why I am here, so obviously present in the military. So as not to paint a target on her back. Or draw question to my loyalties. It might be advisable you do the same." "I just don't want her to think she's been abandoned," she said quietly. He scowled. "I have tried to get mail to her. I do not know if it has arrived." Changing topics swiftly as he did when he was irked, he said, "What will you do next?" "After trying to get word of my own to her... I'm not sure." He coughed and reached for where he used to keep his medicinal jug at his waist. It was not there. "Ah. I left my medicine back inside. It was... good to see that you are alive. I am sorry for the troubles you have faced." She listened as he prepared to end the visit, to separate himself from her. She watched as he stepped away from the railing, taking a couple steps back toward the guildhall. Every move he made was so familiar to her. Even with his lost weight, every plane of his face was embedded in her memory. Every twist of his mouth, every furrow of his brow, every pitch in his voice, she knew. But it was like watching him through a window. They couldn't reach each other. So it was just as well he didn't want to anymore. He turned away, but then he stopped. Without looking at her, he spoke. "I never stopped loving you, or believing in you. I just couldn't stomach that one decision you made. I am sorry that choice led you to the path you had to walk, but I hope it brings you purpose and peace. For myself, I often wonder if those things exist. But at least for you, if they exist, I believe you'd be the one to find them." And that was why she'd had to come tell him this. Because he would have kept putting up with her, with far more than he should have, if she had not pushed just a little too far. And then she had accused him of not loving her enough. "You did always love me more than I deserved," she murmured. "Maybe," he said. Before he began to move, he remarked, "Do not endanger Rylie because of a guilty conscience." Then he waved his hand and headed inside. Once, that would have been more than sufficient to offend her. It didn't. What he thought of her didn't matter. Whether he was right or wrong to think it didn't matter. She had done all she could here. The rest was out of her hands. She looked once more over the view. It held nothing of interest. She left Warscar Reach's hall. [[ Written in conjunction with Kexti. ]]
  7. 2 points
    She'd also forgotten what pork tasted like. After journeying north into Durotar, she'd killed a boar, then cooked it over a proper fire. While the meat sizzled and browned, she'd stared at it, struggling with a sense of unreality. Dissociation, she told herself. She'd heard the term somewhere, probably in a leadership course or other schooling her privileged upbringing had provided, but like many other things, she hadn't understood it until she experienced it. Pork didn't really taste special. It was just meat. In the fading light of the evening, Juli inventoried her possessions. She carried very little. Her sword, Mercy; her armor, with the padding she wore underneath; and the contents of her pack, which was at this point only a short rope, a knife, a patched waterskin, a well-used sharpening stone, and five gold pieces. If she continued to Orgrimmar, she could access her accounts and purchase anything at all she needed. She could commandeer a mount, sleep in a bed, replace her shield. She thought about it, then laid back on the hard-packed dirt and stared up at the sky until stars began to twinkle into existence. The sight wasn't as reassuring as she had hoped. It wasn't really anything. It was just the night sky, which was to say, more an infinite void than anything else. "I'm alive," she whispered. The void did not answer. That was a welcome change.
  8. 2 points
    Months ago... Julilee arrived in Silithus, alone. She had bruises under her jaw, above the collar of her armor. “Julilee Liene reporting for Sanctuary,” she said. The overseer she spoke to, a goblin, looked her up and down. They stood at the edges of a busy camp, the makeshift command yurt behind him strung with contraptions of unknown purpose. This had been where she’d been directed upon arrival. “Yer all they sent?” he said, tilting his hard hat back. “We asked for three, and apparently we’re gonna need a whole damn platoon, so you’re definitely not going to cut it, short stuff.” Juli didn’t comment on a goblin calling her short. She barely commented at all. “What’s the situation?” she asked. “Mining accident, with a special voidy bonus,” the goblin replied. “My team was mining up Azerite, and broke into some sort of underground chamber. Thought we’d find some good bug artifacts in there, but what we got was abominations.” He frowned, a hint of uneasiness in it. “I was actually plannin’ on increasin’ my request... A few Horde soldiers volunteered to go in this morning for a little extra grease, if you catch my drift. Clean things up. Shouldn’t’ve been too hard. But they never came out.” Julilee looked toward the mine. This particular operation was a distance away from the wound in the world, but the earth had heaved here enough to expose some underground caves the goblins had eagerly turned to exploiting to get deeper faster. The caves had probably been part of a buried Qiraji hive. The mine entrance was guarded by a couple of uneasy-looking Horde soldiers. At this hour, the shadow from the gigantic sword was fallen over where they stood, and the cavernous black hole of the entrance seemed to swallow far too much light in that shadow. “How many hours ago?” she asked. It was past noon. “Two and a half. You’re not going in there, are you?” he said, incredulously. “They could still be alive,” she said. “Not likely, shorty! And I’m not payin’ you to go in there either, if that’s what you’re thinking. That’s just throwing good gold after bad.” “I don’t want your Light-damned gold.” Juli continued looking toward the mine’s opening. Her cold, flat words confused the goblin to silence. She spoke again, after a moment. “How many people can you help if you don’t ever help anyone?” “What?” he said, baffled. “If I don’t come out, detonate explosives and collapse it.” She walked toward the mine.
  9. 2 points
    In that moment, the world was irreversibly changed for her. You can’t unsee the abyss. You can’t unknow the truth. No matter how hard you tried to repress it, no matter how much you tried to deny it, it would haunt you forever. Juli saw it and knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that nothing would ever be the same. Kex’ti’s fear, his unwillingness to slide so much as an inch closer to that edge, was so much clearer to her now. She had understood it, but she hadn’t known it. Every pretension she had, every self-delusion, no matter how innocuous, every coping mechanism she relied on, all were stripped away. She saw herself and indeed the whole world and uncaring universe laid bare, reduced to an absurd meaninglessness. Of course the world was uncaring; she had never labored under the belief that anyone would necessarily get what they deserved, be it good or bad. She knew evil could triumph anytime, any place, and that it would be forever and thankless a struggle for anyone trying to hold it back. But she had never realized it was also a pointless struggle. No matter how much suffering you tried to alleviate, more would take its place, because evil was endlessly inventive and adaptive. And in the end you died and whatever difference you had made would end up being less than negligible. But worse, somehow, was how all the things she had tried to accomplish, everything she had ever tried to be, was all shown to be utterly foolish, self-centered, and inadequate. Her own uncharitable thoughts, even what she had believed were her deepest fears, were nothing compared to the truth. She had never loved Kex’ti. She had only used him to placate her need for control, and he had allowed it until he couldn’t anymore. She had never treated Shokkra like a person. She had tried to turn Shokkra into what she had thought Shokkra should be, sacrificing everything Shokkra was along the way, until Shokkra broke. She had done more than simply been too cautious with Sanctuary. She had ruined a legacy, dragged it backward and done significant harm it would take long to recover from, if it ever fully did. She had been too hard on Cerryan; she had revoked her trust simply because he was imperfect. Cobrak, meanwhile, she had also expected too much of. She had expected him to place her needs above his own. The list went on and on. Even with Miwanza, she hadn’t come down here for the girl’s benefit, or any of the others’. She had come down here to selfishly prove herself. That was all there was to it. And with her father, for whom she’d never been good enough, the truth was she was just… Oh, fuck you. The reflex was so deeply ingrained, it was inseparable from who she was as a person. Her entire body jerked. No one was allowed to touch that nerve. It didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter why. It didn’t matter even if they were right. Nobody got to diminutize what she had gone through growing up. Nobody got to break her down like her father had always tried to. She was entitled to defend herself. And fuck anyone who suggested otherwise. Just fuck them right in the eye with a jagged sword. She reached out, and her hand closed around the wickedly curved hilt of Mercy. Golden light surged down the blade, purging the tentacles which shrieked as they were dispelled. It filled up the weapon and all of the eyes hovering around shrank back as she pulled it free. Maybe it was all pointless. Maybe she could never make a difference. Maybe she would never do more help than harm in the world. But fuck anyone and anything who tried to convince her to give up. She would die fighting, with her soul intact, because no one would ever convince her to hand it over. The righteousness, the strength, the self-belief, she seized it. ******* When Miwanza awakened, she had no idea where she was. It seemed to be the bottom of some caved-in ruin, stonework on one side and a huge mountain of rubble on the other. There was a torch lying nearby, barely an ember left on it, but she was able to coax it to life with the shreds of some purple fabric that was discarded next to it for some reason. She started climbing, trying to find an exit, guided by the faintest whisper of a breeze. If there were other whispers, she didn’t hear them. It took hours of squeezing through narrow gaps and crevices, but Miwanza eventually broke through to a ravine that was open to the sky. From there she was able to follow it until it became shallow enough that she was able to climb out, and from there she wandered until she came across a Horde camp. “Whoa, what happened to you?” the guard said in alarm, ushering her to a bench. “Alliance hit?” “No… I don’t think so…” Miwanza looked down at herself. She was covered in a layer of dirt and had a bandage wrapped around her leg, though she felt no pain. Later, she would discover there was no injury beneath. “...But I don’t remember what happened.” The guard took a closer look at her and frowned. “Are you glowing? You didn’t try that Azerite brew, did you?” “I don’t think so…” She looked down at herself again. She had thought the torch had been her only source of illumination, but she did seem to be giving off a faint golden glow. As she watched, it faded away, leaving just her dark blue complexion. “Some sort of blessing,” said another guard who had shown up to see what was happening. “You don’t remember anything?” the first guard asked. She shook her head. “The last thing I remember is arriving here in Silithus with my platoon.” No one was ever able to puzzle out what happened. The Alliance were named likely suspects when her squadmates were discovered missing. The incident was soon forgotten.
  10. 2 points
    Juli didn’t have much of a choice. She raised Mercy and delivered a solid thwack with the side of the blade to the girl’s head. Miwanza crumpled and Juli scooped her up, throwing her over her shoulder and running for the far side of the dais. Probably should have done that in the first place. Except now she couldn’t hold up her shield, or fight effectively. And the fallen torch’s light didn’t reach far. No, this plan had far too many problems, but it was the only one she had now. You – can’t – flee – from – what – you – believe – She stumbled down the other side of the dais and fetched up against the wall, which she could barely make out. Ancient tapestries crumbled to dust under her touch. She started following the wall, feeling frantically for any exit. Slithering sounds surrounded her and she unintentionally stepped on another tentacle, quickly grinding it to pulpy sludge with her boot. A swipe around her with Mercy had several more barely-visible tentacles dodging back. Luckily, the golden light the blade gave off wasn’t bright enough to illuminate them. She wasn’t sure what they would do if they reached her even if they couldn’t hypnotize her, though. Her hand on the wall suddenly plunged into nothing. An exit! She threw herself toward it, only to bounce ringingly off a wall just inside. It wasn’t an exit. It was just an alcove. Juli stumbled back, and that was when a tentacle wrapped around one ankle. She was just starting to react when it gave a heave and pulled her feet out from under her entirely. She lost her grip on Miwanza as she fell, the girl’s limp body slamming Juli’s head into the stone floor and stunning her. When she regained her senses a few moments later, she had lost her shield but somehow retained her grip on Mercy, and was dangling upside-down in the air, being drawn away from the flickering torch and toward the corner of the room where the mass was. With a grunt she pulled herself up and sliced at the tentacle around her ankle by feel alone. It loosed her, and she braced herself for a rough landing, but instead landed in what felt like a nest of writhing, slimy tentacles. Light help me. As she struggled to right herself, throwing off tentacles and slashing out with her bright blade, it occurred to her in a wry corner of her mind not currently occupied with fighting for survival that this would undoubtedly make a retroactively hilarious story, someday down the line, to share over a cup of strong liquor with Kex’ti – no, Shokkra – no, Cobrak – no, who? Who would she laugh about this with someday, if she made it out of this? Who would care? Nobody would care. “Get out of my head!” she shouted as she struggled, infuriated her thoughts had once again been pushed in this unwanted direction. We – need – do – naught – your – own – battles – are – fought – In the very faint outlines provided by Mercy’s glow, a great stalk rose up in front of her, twice as wide as she was, thought admittedly she was rather small. At the end, a great orb turned towards her. Juli didn’t wait to see any more. She lunged forward and plunged her blade into the center of it. You – bring – us – power – it – we – will – devour – From the edges of the wound sprung more tentacles. No – they sprung from her sword. Juli jerked her hand back in horror as Mercy’s golden glow was replaced by a vivid purple that grew brighter and brighter as more and more tentacles swarmed out of the sides of the blade. Very clearly released. Her mind leapt to the battles against Karthok and his minions, where Mercy had seemed to harmlessly absorb several void attacks. It hadn’t been harmless at all. All this time, she had been carrying around a void-infused weapon. What have I done? How had she not known? Had it been manipulating her? Let – us – show – you – what – mercy – is – true – Too late, she realized that the illumination was too great. She should have closed her eyes immediately. But, still shocked, she didn’t. And she met the gaze of a hundred black eyes.
  11. 2 points
    Miwanza described it as, of course, an unfathomably hideous tentacle beast with far too many eyes. Juli didn’t know what she expected. All Miwanza could really offer other than that was that meeting the gaze of one of the eyes had spelled doom for her companions. Miwanza had only barely avoided doing so, since to gaze upon the mass was to almost assuredly ended up catching the gaze of one of the eyes; only her companions’ reactions, in front of her, had saved her, as they had commanded her attention and at the same time clued her in to what was happening. “All right, here’s what we’ll do.” Juli looked toward the shadows ahead in the antechamber. Apparently the thing lurked in the next room; they speculated it was immobile, relying on its prey to come to it. “You’ll hold the torch, and I’ll guide you – you’ll be blindfolded.” “Blindfolded? But wait, you won’t be?” Both options seemed dismaying in their own way to the girl. “Yes. I’m going to use my shield to block my vision where needed, and find us an exit. If I stop talking and guiding you at any point… try to smack me in the face, with the torch.” Juli inhaled slowly. “I’ll take being blind over insane.” Miwanza hesitated, then nodded, firming her grip on the torch. “All right. Let’s do this.” Juli had used up most of the roll of bandage, and wasn’t sure the gauze would be thick enough if not layered adequately, so had already decided what she was going to do for a blindfold. She sheathed her weapons and took hold of the hem of her purple and gold tabard. Tearing upward, she pulled off a long strip. One of the wings of the phoenix emblem came off with it. Now how is it supposed to fly? She ignored the nonsensical thought as she had Miwanza bend down so she could securely tie the improvised blindfold around the girl’s head. The whispers were getting louder; more eager. She redrew her weapons, and felt better with Mercy in her hand. They set off toward the end of the antechamber. A wall with a wide archway appeared, separating it from the next room. The stonework was still absent of the black chitinlike corruption, but the whispers were growing louder and louder, no longer in small degrees, but in leaps and bounds as they drew closer. Below it, Juli thought she might be hearing disturbing slurping sounds. There was no point in hesitating. Juli took the girl’s arm with her sword hand, lifted her shield and darted into the room. The torchlight danced madly, illuminating a space smaller than the antechamber – a throne room? There was a dais at the end with some objects atop it, but that wasn’t where the creature was. To their left, the light gleamed on hundreds of orbs and Juli threw her shield up between herself and it before she was sure what she was seeing. Backing away from that direction, she looked around, trying to see if there was another exit. Miwanza, making small sounds of fear, gripped Juli’s arm tightly and almost trod on her feet as she followed Juli’s lead. What – do – we – spy – with – our – countless – eyes – The voice was both inside and outside of her head. “Nothing to see here,” Juli said through gritted teeth. There was no exit on the right side of the room, but maybe there was behind the dais. Juli tugged Miwanza that way, angling her shield. She heard sickening slick noises and strained to determine if they meant the thing was moving. The acoustics of the chamber if not the echoing whispers made that impossible. As they reached the dais, something slid up to her foot, under her guard. She didn’t think; she stomped it to bits. The texture was wretched. “Up!” she urged Miwanza. “Five steps!” Miwanza stumbled as she went up, breaking from Juli’s grip but catching herself. Juli swept Mercy under her shield preventatively, and thought she felt the tip of the blade slide through something that gave almost no resistance. Like, maybe, an eyeball. “Juli?” Miwanza cried. You – saw – all – before – remember – so – much – more – “Keep going!” Juli backed up the steps, keeping her shield up and using every sense she could to try to catch any more tentacles that might encroach. Not being able to look went against every instinct she had. Look out, look out, look out. She bumped into Miwanza, who wasn’t moving. Juli whipped her head to look at the girl, suddenly fearing the girl had somehow become transfixed despite the blindfold, but there were no tentacle stalks near the girl. Nonetheless, she wasn’t moving. “Miwanza! Keep going!” Juli tried to give her a shove, but in response Miwanza simply dropped the torch. It continued to burn, but the light was dangerously dimmer. The – inner – eye – is – where – truth – lies – “I saw it,” Miwanza breathed. “I saw it, before. I ran away, but I remember now.” She reached up. “Miwanza, no!” The girl ripped off the blindfold and smiled beatifically past Julilee.
  12. 2 points
    “First, though, let’s see if I can bandage that wound better for you,” Juli said. Miwanza nodded and sank down against the pillar. Juli gave her the torch to hold and started unwrapping the bandage. “How come you came by yourself?” Miwanza said. She paused. “I mean, it’s very brave, but… didn’t it seem risky?” “Someone else was going to come with me originally,” Juli said as she worked. She didn’t know why she said what followed. “But she felt I was going to betray her, so she attacked me, disabled me, and took off.” “Why did she think that?” Miwanza said, somewhere between curious and alarmed. Juli was silent for a moment before answering, working on unbuckling the girl’s leg plate and setting it aside. “She thought she wouldn’t get a fair trial for something she’d done which others viewed as a crime. I thought she would, but… I guess I don’t blame her.” “Sounds like you two have a complicated relationship,” Miwanza offered. “You could say that.” “Is she the one who gave you those bruises?” Juli paused in the middle of getting out her water canteen, one hand rising reflexively toward the bruises under her jaw. It was a lucky guess. “Yes,” she said. “If, um, she was going to be put to trial, why were you two coming here…?” Juli considered what to say. She had already said all that, so why not the rest? “It was going to be our last assignment together. I resigned from my post as leader of my guild. I just… wanted one last chance to feel like I was carrying out Sanctuary’s mission, the way I’d always envisioned it, with someone I always hoped could see it the same way.” “I’ve heard of Sanctuary,” Miwanza said, perking up. “You want peace between the Horde and the Alliance, don’t you?” Juli sighed inwardly as she cleaned the wound. “We want peace for everyone, regardless of faction,” she said, the correction one she had given more times than she could count. Then she paused, realizing she was speaking as though she were still part of Sanctuary. “Or at least, that was my vision. I don’t know how good a job I did of getting anyone closer to that while I was in charge. But I’m not going to try anymore.” “You’re giving up?” “On some things,” Juli said. She reached into her satchel and pulled out a roll of bandage. “I’m not going to try to lead anymore. I could never really inspire anyone. Not their confidence, not their hope, not anything. So I’m just going to do whatever I can until I can’t anymore.” She started wrapping Miwanza’s leg tightly. “So you came down here on pretty much a suicide mission.” Miwanza gave a rueful laugh. “Do you even expect to get out of here alive?” Despair underlaid her words. Juli looked up at the girl. “I will die trying to get you out of here alive,” she said quietly, “but dying is the very last option, and not one I’ll be throwing myself at. You can’t help anyone if you’re dead.” “You sound like you’ve said that before,” Miwanza said, the words calming her somewhat. “Someone said it to me years ago,” Juli said. “And it stuck… maybe too much. I was too cautious, for too long. An entire guild’s lives were in my hands. One bad call and I could lose someone who trusted me, right?” She was silent for a moment as she worked, tying off the bandage. “But Sanctuary needed to take those risks. We weren’t Sanctuary unless we did.” “Like Aerie Peak,” Miwanza said. Juli stopped again, looking up at the girl. “People still talk about that?” she said. “I was at the Wyvern’s Tail once when some Grim came in, and they mentioned it,” Miwanza said. “I found the official Horde report later and read it. The Grim said you attacked them, but according to the report, you stated that you only stood in defense of Alliance civilians and noncombatants when the Grim attacked. People say a lot of things about Sanctuary, but… I’ve seen what the Grim have done… I wouldn’t put it past them to do that.” “Yes,” Juli said. “The town’s soldiers were mostly away, leaving only children, elderly, the infirm, and other noncombatants… There were only a handful of us Sanctuary, and a whole squad of Grim. But we chose to make a stand, even though we were outnumbered.” She remembered the clash of her and Khorvis’ blades. Lilliana’s twisted face as she flung dark magic. Cerryan’s bright cries. The surety that had rung in her heart, the utter lack of regret even when things were at their bleakest. “But things changed after that… No, I changed. I became unwilling to take any more risks. I was too afraid that someone else would pay the price if I was wrong.” “But you were just saying you can’t help anyone if you’re dead,” Miwanza pointed out. She helped with her free hand as Juli buckled the leg plate back on. “So being cautious isn’t unreasonable.” “Yes,” Juli agreed. “But you can’t help anyone if you never help anyone, either.” She rose to her feet and offered Miwanza her hand. Miwanza clasped it and Juli pulled the girl to her feet. With the new, tighter bandage, she seemed more stable. Miwanza tested her weight on it and seemed satisfied. She still wouldn’t be leaping across any chasms, but she could get around. “I’m not responsible for anyone else anymore,” Juli said. “Just myself. So I’m going to take those risks now that I always should have. I’m not going to run toward death, but I’m not going to always run away from it, either. That’s why I’m here. I won’t let you down.” “If you say so,” Miwanza said with a weak chuckle. “I’m not going to look a gift boar in the tusks. If we get out of here alive, I’m not gonna argue with whatever philosophy you used to do it.” The whispers had quieted while the two spoke. It had been a welcome break, but suddenly Juli had the feeling that they had been listening. Well, it wasn’t anything that hadn’t already been in her mind, on which the shadows had already played. And, as always, the only way to go was forward. No matter what lay behind, she had to keep moving forward, because giving up was never an option. “Keep the torch,” Juli said. “I’ll need both my arms to fight. What can you tell me about the thing ahead?” The whispers were growing loud again as she drew her sword and shield. The bright, jagged lines on Mercy gleamed golden in the darkness. “Oh, you’re a paladin!” Miwanza said, her voice rising with real hope for the first time. “Maybe you really can beat this thing!” “...” “What?” Miwanza blinked. “Just tell me what this thing looks like.”
  13. 2 points
    From there, the pathway didn’t fork anymore. It was a blessing because she didn’t have to worry about losing her way, but a curse because she didn’t have concentrating on not losing her way to keep her distracted from the whispers. She spent some time thinking about how to get back across the treacherous cavern on her way out. Once she had a few basic ideas about that, she didn’t have much else to try to anticipate or plan. She found herself wondering what the outside world do if she never came out. How many weeks would it be before someone went into her office to try to figure out what mission it was she’d mentioned to Vilmah? Would anyone try to follow her down into this damned place? Or would they assume she’d just run off with Shokkra? The whispers loved that train of thought, so she tried to think of a new one. A distraction came in the form of the walls and floors. The reddish, bulbous, silithid-made appearance of the surfaces was changing. It was becoming darker, and glossier. Her sabatons made a slightly different sound on them. They clicked more. She paused to inspect a particularly bulbous pustule once it had all become very shiny and black, bringing her torch nearer to it. Deep within, the blackness contracted as the torch neared. It was an eyeball. She flinched back instinctively, but nothing happened. After a few moments to calm her thoroughly unnerved heart, she continued on. Something loomed in the path ahead. She couldn’t quite figure out what it was for a moment, only able to perceive a strange shadow lying in the way, before it clicked. It was a chasm. The earth had been split here, this far beneath the surface, the rending wide enough that she had to get close to the edge before the circle of light her torch provided illuminated the opposite side. The bottom of the chasm, she couldn’t see at all. A breeze stirred the torch’s flame, ever so slightly, though she couldn’t feel it. Did the opening go all the way up to the surface, somewhere? Even if it were impassable to anything but a breeze, the fresh air was welcome. The whispers seemed quieter here. She considered her options. It was a noteworthy distance across, but she suspected that with a running start, she could make it. However... she wasn’t entirely sure. But other options did not seem promising. She had brought no rope, and an inspection of the walls and the edges showed that there would be no climbing sideways or down, the material too slick and sheer to promote a safe hold. If she wanted to continue, across was the other way to go. There were three more Horde soldiers unaccounted for. They could very well be at the bottom of this chasm, so far as she knew. Or, this chasm could have only opened up with the last earthquake in that cavern of impalement. Or, the chasm had been here, but they’d made it across. Or, they could have gone a completely different direction. Well, there was only one way to find any of that out, wasn’t there. She backed up a distance, then started for the edge. However, she didn’t run at full speed, and slid to a stop before the edge. She was half-expecting a tentacle to try to lash up at where she would have been mid-jump. But nothing happened. The whispers didn’t even change. Am I too paranoid? Or am I the only one prepared? You’re always the former until you’re the latter. She backed up again, and this time ran as hard as she could. Her footing at the edge almost gave out under her as she leapt, but she was still able to get enough of a launch to just barely make it across, her feet landing inches ahead of the gap. She pounded to a stop, looking back. The gap looked wider from this direction. She kept going. It suddenly changed. In a transition spanning only a few feet, the material surrounding her shifted from the black, organic (?) material to gray stonework, tendrils trailing into it then disappearing. It was an ancient, deeply buried ruin. She lifted her torch higher as she stepped into the area, looking around. It seemed like some sort of grand antechamber, wide, with dual rows of pillars reaching to the ceiling. The whispers echoed, here, like she was hearing them with her actual ears. Realizing that was also when she realized that she could hear again, and that she had been able to for some time. It was enough to give her pause, and wonder what else she’d missed. But all she could do was try to pay as close attention as she could to her surroundings, and she did as she moved forward, casting her gaze about, aware that there were many directions with much cover that something could appear from. Then a muffled sob came from one side. As much as she had every reason to believe it was a trap, she couldn’t not ensure it wasn’t. Hand on Mercy’s hilt, she moved toward the sound. Sheltering behind the pillar was a troll in Horde armor. She was bunched in on herself, holding a one-handed axe with both hands. She almost leapt at Juli as she appeared, but stopped in confusion at the last moment, stumbling and shrinking away. “What...?” Juli held up her hands, including the one still holding the torch, spreading the fingers a little bit to show it was all she held. “My name is Julilee. I came down here to find you. Are you all right?” she asked. “Are... are you real?” the trolless asked. “Are you?” Julilee replied dryly. “The shadows haven’t stooped to outright illusions yet, but I wouldn’t put it past them.” The trolless didn’t seem entirely reassured by that, but she looked like she wanted to be. She was young, with blue hair and darker blue skin. Her youth made Juli think of Mariz. Mariz could have easily ended up here, had she signed up with the Horde military instead of Sanctuary. But Juli had ended up here too, hadn’t she, because of Sanctuary. Juli wasn’t sure what lesson she was supposed to draw from that conclusion and didn’t have the time to ponder it further. “Look,” Juli said, “I want to get you out of here safely, and your companions if they’re still alive. Do you know where any of them are?” “We lost Mal’lul early in the tunnels,” the trolless said hesitantly, “and Orenzi to the spikes.” She swallowed, still gripping her axe. “Lomar and Kaishu, they convinced me to keep going once we got here... They said that there would be treasure in ruins like these and the goblins couldn’t complain about us helping ourselves down here while we cleaned up the voidspawn... and maybe we’d find something to help us get back through the spikes and the suffocating dark thing...” “What happened?” Juli prompted. “Where are they now?” “We went ahead, and... the voidspawn... it... there was... it was too big. It got Lomar and Kaishu... almost got me...” Julilee nodded. She didn’t press for details. “What’s your name?” “Miwanza.” Juli gave her a closer look. The girl looked scared out of her mind. She also had a bloodied bandage tied across her right thigh. The stumble hadn’t been entirely due to the pulled swing. “How fast can you move, Miwanza?” “Not very,” the girl admits. “I only got away because the... thing... it was occupied.. with...” Juli nodded again, letting the girl know she didn’t need to explain. “There’s a chasm in the tunnel on the way out. I made it across but I don’t think you can with your injury. We’ll need to find something to help us cross it, or another way out of here.” The sheer practicality Juli evinced seemed to be reassuring the trolless that Juli was real, though the situation as described clearly scared her. “What do we do?” she asked. Juli considered that herself. There was no guarantee that any other exit existed. Nor was there that there would be any items they could put to use in these ruins. And it was guaranteed that an enemy lay ahead. But there were literally no other options. “We get past it.”
  14. 2 points
    The path opened up into another large cavern. Juli could tell it was huge by how the small sounds she made, her footsteps and the rustling of her armor, got swallowed up by the dark that her torch couldn’t find the end of. She weighed her options: go through the middle or stick to a wall? In the end she decided to follow the whispers, which led out away from the walls. The soldiers, if they were fleeing in terror, would have taken much the same course anyway. An obstruction appeared – a stalagmite. She moved around it and encountered more, the ground growing thick with them. A natural cavern? She paused to look at one of them more closely. It didn’t appear to be made out of mineral. She hesitated to inspect further, and continued on. Her ears strained to pick out sounds in the dark surrounding her. Even her own movements seemed muffled, and to be growing more so. Only the whispers stayed at the same volume. At first she wasn’t sure if it was an acoustical trick, but eventually she stopped and tapped and her armor to check, and she heard nothing at all. She scanned her surroundings, wary of what this meant. Had she lost her hearing, or was this some new threat? Or both? Then she began to feel vibrations under her feet, rapidly growing stronger. Instinctively, she reached out to steady herself on one of the stalagmites. This proved to be a bad idea as it broke off at her touch, far more fragile than she had anticipated. The rumbling grew heavier, accompanied by a rushing of air, and she turned her head to see a stalactite crash down not far from her. She couldn’t hear it hit, which was disorienting, nor the fragments that she could feel bounce off her armor as she shielded her face. Managing to keep her feet, she started moving quickly, seeking the end of the cavern. With her right arm she drew her shield and held it up to protect herself as more stalactites came crashing down in utter silence. At least one bounced off her shield directly, but other than being jarring, it did no harm, its material far too fragile. While running for cover, Juli almost tripped over another body, this one a female orc. She also wore Horde armor and was impaled on a broken stalagmite, which appeared to have fallen over and shattered in the earthquake. How? Juli didn’t have time to puzzle it out and quickly passed by. Almost all of the spires along the ground had collapsed at that point, and fewer stalactites were falling now. In another few moments, it ceased entirely. Juli slowed to a stop, looking around. Fragments lay everywhere that the torch’s light could reach. The cavern was clear of obstructions now, save for the rubble. But she has a feeling that that wasn’t it. The rumbling started up again. Instinct made Juli break into a sprint. The ground grew strangely mushy under her feet. The debris was disappearing. Absorbed into the ground? Then, the ground grew hard again. She had the weird feeling that the ground was actually changing, and not from her passage of distance, but altogether. This place was all wrong and unnatural. Then a stalagmite erupted from the ground in front of her. She spun, barely avoiding running into it, though she still bounced off the side of it. The soundlessness of it all was as jarring as the impact. It didn’t break, much stronger than any of the ones that had collapsed. Fully capable of impaling someone. It was a new one. It had regrown. She didn’t know if her own wild imagination had supplied the thought or if the whispers did, but couldn’t do anything right then but dismiss it anyway. She kept running. Another one erupted just in front of her, but she saw it coming this time, and leapt over it. Her instincts told her there was going to be more than direction to this threat, and when a spike suddenly speared down down from the ceiling, she was not entirely surprised. She ducked, her short height once again coming in handy for something, and kept going. Several more close calls later, she fetched up against a wall. Quickly reconsidering that, she moved away from the potentially lethal surface and moved to follow the edge at a safer distance. No spikes did end up coming out of the wall, but several more erupted from the floor and ceiling, trying to get her. One scored along the side of her leg but her armor took the scratch. Eventually, she found an opening and ducked in. The spikes didn’t follow, and the rumbling ceased. The whispers flowed down this passage. If there had been more than one exit from the impalement cavern, it seemed she had found the right one. Juli slung her shield back on her back, put her hand on Mercy’s hilt, and continued on.
  15. 2 points
    The narrow entrance led to an even narrower corridor, one that looked like it was created by the earth’s rupturing rather than created by creatures, sentient or otherwise. The cavern it led into, however, was another matter. The torch’s light shone on bulbous walls signature of what one could expect in the zone. Juli moved out into the open, looking for other exits, and the light illuminated three other corridors out of the cavern. From one of them flowed the whispers. Eerily, they sounded like someone she knew, though she couldn’t say who. She put her other hand on the hilt of Mercy and followed them. The path forked; Juli took the one that the whispers were coming from. Then it forked again, and again, and again. She started building herself a mnemonic to remember the path she took: My really lousy rocks reach lower levels… It didn’t make any sense, but that was fine as long as she could remember it. Focusing on the dumb game kept the whispers from encroaching on her mind, too. It seemed odd that the path forked so much. As far as she knew, most silithid hives just spiraled deeper and deeper, without many branching paths at all. And this one just kept going. At one point, she realized she was going in a circle, and was forced to take some time to revise her mental map, figure out where she had started repeating herself, then go from there, finding a passage where the whispers were marginally louder than the one she had been taking. After that, the whispers started becoming a thrumming undertone of too many speaking at once to understand. She chose to not be disturbed by it, determined to get to the bottom of this and find what had happened to the missing soldiers. Her thoughts started wandering as she continued on. There was too much weighing on her mind. Losing Kex’ti, giving up Sanctuary, even Cobrak’s actions. And Shokkra. The more she thought about it all, the more depressed and discouraged she got, her thoughts darkening. Why was she even here? Why was she even trying, when she couldn’t help anyone? Then she realized that those thoughts weren’t her own; they were what the whispers were saying. Anger burned bright clarity back into her mind. She wasn’t going to give up, and she certainly wasn’t going to give up because manipulative entities were toying on her fears. It was at that same moment that she realized the shadows were encroaching on more than her mind. An amorphous blob hovered at the left side of her peripheral vision, and as soon as she realized it was there, she instinctively swiped at it with the torch in her hand. A shriek split the enclosed space and suddenly it was hard to breathe. It occurred to her she didn’t even know how far she was underground and if good air could still reach down there. She could suffocate. She was suffocating. No. More shadows. She drew her sword as the blob recoiled then lurched for her again, and the shining blade sliced right through it. It died with another shriek, and as soon as the sound dissipated, she could breathe again. She took a moment to do just that, as she shifted carefully, looking around for any other threats. She ended up finding a body instead. It was a male troll in Horde armor. His eyes bulged, his mouth agape, as though he had choked to death. His body was cool, but not yet stiff. His companions must have fled ahead and left him to die. Juli turned back toward the whispers and continued.
  16. 2 points
    Juli stood at the entrance to the mine. Besides being unnaturally dark, a chill breeze flowed gently from the cave’s mouth, yet it failed to stir the flames of the torches on either side. That wasn’t the worst part, though. The worst part was the impression of whispers carried on that breeze, like a hushed conversation you were overhearing while asleep and couldn’t make any sense out of. It was no surprise the two Horde grunts guarding the entrance seemed uneasy. They looked at her as she stood there, and as she did, their expressions slowly turned from dubious to bewildered as she did not move for some time. She ignored them, immersed in thought. Eventually, she took out her hearthstone and spoke. “Sanctuary, thank you for the chance to lead you as long as I did. It’s been the most important three and a half years of my life. If you haven’t already heard, I’ve passed the mantle of leadership to Vilmah Bloodborne. I had reached the end of what I could offer Sanctuary, and I know she’ll be able to guide you further than I could. It’s been an honor. Thank you.” When she was done, one of the guards asked with nervous gentleness, “Err, lady, you’re not going in there out of some deathwish, are you?” The juxtaposition of her words, which they could hear, and what she was staring into was rather clear. The other shifted awkwardly, and the first guard went on. “Just take a little time, find someplace to blow off some steam. Go fight in an arena, spend some gold somewhere – fel, go get laid. You’ll feel better and realize you don’t have to do anything drastic.” “How many are unaccounted for?” was all she asked. “Five of ‘em went in,” the other guard said. “Two trolls, two orcs, and a pandaren.” She grunted. “Haven’t heard a peep. Other than...” Her eyes shifted toward the dark of the cave mouth, where the unheard whispers were coming from, and she scratched at an ear nervously. No new information since the request that had come to her desk, then, about what Juli would actually be facing down below. The report had just mentioned voidspawn in a cave the miners had broken into, from which they’d quickly retreated with no casualties. Juli mentally reviewed what she knew and found it wasn’t much. She would have to figure out what was going on herself. “She sure stands around thinkin’ a lot,” the second guard commented to the first. “Someone has to,” Juli muttered, then walked into the cave. She grabbed a torch off the side as she passed by. The guards didn’t stop her.
  17. 2 points
    Somewhere behind dark clouds, the moon was high over Sun Rock Retreat. Rain pattered down onto the dry red dirt, collecting in puddles and dribbling down the sheer cliff faces into the small Tauren village below. Despite the hour and the weather, the distant sound of fighting could be heard echoing from over the canyon walls. And standing above it all, looking down into the village below, was a lone Goblin. A cigar chomped in the corner of his mouth lighting up his face and the pair of goggles resting upon his forehead in an orange-red glow. He’d take a heavy puff from the cigar now and then, drawing on it to keep the dim glowing tip alight despite the rain fighting to extinguish it. With a sigh, he reached into his vest and withdrew a pocket watch, exchanging it to his opposite hand to fling the water that had collected on his fingertips after reaching into his soaked clothing. Lifting the pocket watch to his cigar to cast some light on it in order to read the time. He grunted and rolled his eyes before tucking the watch away once more into the wet clothing from which it had came. “You’re late again.” He commented aloud around the cigar, rolling it from one side of his mouth to the other. Behind him, the sound of heavy steps in the mud grew gradually louder. A Tauren approaching, walking up the steep wet slope of the path that lead to the top of the cliff. “Sorry. Traffic.” Came the flat joke in reply, a smooth baritone voice from the bull that strode toward the Goblin. The Goblin rolled his eyes, visible only thanks to the glow upon his face. But the smirk that pulled at the corners of his lips was obvious. It was short lived though as he pulled a folder from under his arm, tucked into his armpit to keep it at least somewhat dry. It wasn’t particularly effective. Never the less, he held the damp folder up with a full extension of his arm for the Tauren to take it. And as the bull came to a stop at the cliffs edge he took the folder, opening it in a hand. The Goblin reached into his vest to retrieve a flashlight for the bull to read by, but stopped short. Before he could retrieve the flashlight, the Tauren’s fingertips upon his free hand lit up with arcs of blue electricity. His hand raised just high enough to light the pages. Within the folder were photos and documents. Horde insignias marked each page. Post combat reports and debriefings taken by Horde intelligence. Thick fingers paged slowly through the folder, flipping from one page to the next before coming to rest upon a photo. An image frozen in time of the carnage upon the beaches of Darkshore. In the distance, the world tree Teldrassil smoldered, spewing smoke into the sky. The Tauren visibly hesitated, an action which the Goblin recognized. “It’s bad.” Came the thickly accented voice of the Goblin. “Bad is one word for it.” The Tauren replied as he traced a finger along the photo, smearing raindrops across its surface. “It would be ironic for me of all people to say Sylvannas has gone too far.” “But?” “But Sylvannas has gone too far.” The Tauren replied, closing the folder and holding it back out to the Goblin. Realizing that he was done, the Goblin reached up and took it, tucking it back beneath his arm. “So what do we do about it?” “Nothing.” Came the baritone reply. The Goblin blinked, before looking up at the Tauren with a raised brow. “The leader of the Horde is going too far in their conflict with the Alliance. Again. And we’re going to do nothing. Again?” He asked quizzically, wanting to confirm what he’d just heard. “The whole reason myself and the others left was because our fight was over. Our whole intent was to fight the battles the Horde could not. Garrosh made our existence unnecessary. For the Raven Cross to continue would simply mean becoming a part of the greater Horde war machine. This is no different.” The Tauren replied easily, shrugging his shoulders. “And I have no interest in killing a fellow member of the Horde. No matter how despicable they may have become. It should not be our way.” “So we just go back to watching?” A nod of the Tauren’s head indicated his reply. Silence lingered in the air between them for a time. Only the sound of the rain pattering down onto the world around them would fill the air. The goblin stared at the Tauren for a time, before realising that the rain had finally won out against his cigar - it now was dark and wet. Grumbling, he pulled it from his lips and dropped it to the mud, stamping on it with a boot to make sure it stayed out. “What about the others? Have you heard anything about them?” The Goblin asked, shaking his foot to dislodge mud from his boot. “Not for years. We all went our separate ways. I’m not sure about the others that stayed and kept flying the flag, but they’re not in Sun Rock anymore.” The Tauren replied, his eyes on the village below. Even in the dark, the Goblin could make out the sombre look upon his face. “It was for the best for everyone that we stayed out of touch. The Alliance weren’t exactly going to take what we did lying down without looking for revenge. We were a liability to each other.” There was a brief pause, before the Goblin chuckled. “So remind me why we still keep doing these little covert meetings, then?” The grin from the Tauren was visible even in the dark as he turned his head to look down at the Goblin. “Old habits die hard, my friend.” With those words, the Tauren turned and started heading back towards the path up the cliff. “I need to go see Teldrassil for myself. Then maybe I’ll change my mind about our next move. Maybe it’s time.” Nodding his head, the Goblin was silent and watched as his friend started walking away. But before he was out of sight, the Goblin spoke up one last time. “Dio!” The Tauren lifted his head, and in the dark the Goblin could make out the silhouette of the Tauren as he turned his head to look over his shoulder. “It was good to see you. Unulu, too. I’m assuming he’s around here somewhere, at least.” The Goblin remarked. In the dark, his expression unreadable, the Tauren smiled. “Yeah, he’s around. It was good seeing you, too, Chikt. I’m sure we’ll be doing this again soon.” With that, the Tauren continued down the path. And as he disappeared out of sight, the storm went with him.
  18. 2 points
    Late to seeing all this, but well wishes to the lot of you. Legion saw a shift for me away from Rp unfortunately. At least for a bit raiding was great and Katrynne got to be a part of that! I'll always look back fondly on our planned kidnapping and everything that stemmed from that. I repeat my wishes for continued success! I plan to be more RP focused this expansion, so who knows, our paths may cross yet again. After all, there is still a score to be settled. >:)
  19. 2 points
    The House is an RP event that will take place entirely in Discord. All Horde and Alliance roleplayers on TN/RH are welcome. There will be contestants and audience. There will be chances for the audience to participate and help guide the challenges for the contestants. The main goal of this event is to put your character into a setting with other characters they might not normally interact with, for some fun RP! More information about the house, including screenshots and descriptions of each room are on the Discord server. Applications are due by midnight on Sunday, June 3, and may be submitted on the Discord server in the Applications channel. Discord link: https://discord.gg/RuDVFSG THE HOUSE RULES 1. This event is open to all Horde and Alliance RPers on Twisting Nether/Ravenholdt. 2. This event will take place entirely in the Discord server, Razz’s House. However, any gold prizes earned will be sent through in-game mail. 3. You may apply on as many characters as you want. Please list your main to ensure only ONE of your characters is selected. There is a non-refundable application fee of 1000g per character. This money will ALL go in the prize pot, along with enough of my own gold to make 100,000g, to be distributed to the winners at the end of the game. 4. Most of the “game” will be freeform RP in the House. The main goal of this event is to give people a chance to RP together whose characters would normally not interact with each other. 5. There will be occasional IC challenges. The day and time of the challenges will vary, to give opportunity for everyone to participate. The challenges will take place in Discord, but will start and complete within set time frame, so participants will be expected to be able to be active and attentive during it. Winners of the challenges may be determined by dice rolls, contestant votes, audience votes, or possibly other means. Winners will receive points and/or some other meaningful award. 6. IC, applications have been left in all major taverns, along with anonymous nominations. If you want to participate, but your character wouldn’t apply to something like this, you can say someone nominated him anonymously. 7. The contestants will NOT be all from one race or one guild. Such balancing will be kept in mind as contestants are selected to ensure variety in the household population. 8. Each contestant will earn points through various challenges, voting opportunities in the House, voting opportunities by the audience, and whenever Razz feels like giving out points. 9. Hobgoblins/mooks will be employed to keep the peace within the House and grounds. While they won’t interfere with scuffles and small fights, anyone fighting with deadly intent will be thrown in the dungeon. Please respect their authority in the House, and if your character does get violent, play along with getting arrested. Your character may remain locked up for a couple days, lose some points, or receive some other punishment agreed upon OOC. Repeated offenses may get them banned from the House. 10. If you are interested in participating in The House, please see the #applications channel. 11. All House RP rooms are "open" meaning anyone in the house can enter and join in the RP there at any time. Bedrooms might be an exception depending on the RP. (Please do NOT RP any NSFW content in this server.) ------------------------------------------------------------------ AUDIENCE Anyone who does not have a character in the House can participate in special Audience events. These may include voting on winners of events and other issues, being a special guest star in the House for a short period of time. Suggestions for events, and even running an event may also be options for audience members. Audience members may also RP as mooks if they choose. (See below.) Anyone in the Discord server who is not a contestant will be given the Audience role. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- MOOKS ANYONE may play a mook at any time if one is needed to break up a fight, except the people involved in that particular fight. The mooks will only break up fights that look deadly in nature. They may lock the offender(s) up in the cells. They are not very bright, but they are large and well armed with various weapons, nets, handcuffs, stunrays, etc. They may also step in if someone is trying to cause harm/theft to the House or to Razz, or other very serious infractions. Players are expected to play along with any mook attempting to restrain them. RPing resistance is allowed, as long as the player allows the mook to "win" in subduing the character.
  20. 2 points
    LUNK RITE MOAR WORDS hai hi, me iS stIlL Lunkkk, wriTe stOry bout scarY day! :O haHa :O looK likE LoNk facE! 2dayYyYyy ScAry. FeW days b4r, sCar LadY brinG frned, n he bIg n mean. anyWay, 1day 2day end of miss Razzy contest. PRETTY LADY WIN! lunK very happppy. Affer she Win, HOUSE CATCH FIARRRR! :OOOO luNk watch shoWs in room wid friends crOnk n PonK. n boB n Lonk2 buttt dey naht frinds. dey sUck. So, we watchIn show, LunkkKk look like tis: \o/ he hav good time. Den, get HAWT. BoB tell turn air, buT no AiR, AirrR hot! B4r no, rooM on fiahr in Mid of Ahll miiii gren chilrend! N lunk Lock in firarr room! bOoB haZ good ida, Hee spiLl dranK oN fiarrhs! N CrOonk spits on fiaarhrs! smmMart cRoNk..s Luank try same. Den! PRETTY LADY COME SAVE LUNK! Door opn, pretti ladi derE wid nothAr pretY lady! TwO pretTy Ladies! :O Dey Yallink at moOks n wE run out RooM n dey SavEe liFE!!!! BesTtest ladIes evarh! baD stuf happeN miSs RazzY housE brrrn 2 groun, but MisS RaZzY sayyfe! n moOks sayyfe! we go Poooorrt? Purt? Pert now! NEwww hOomE 4 Lunk Lunk! luv lunk ❤️ The text is written in the same shambled up journal as before, the mook having had it stuffed in his pants as he left the burning building. The edges of the paper is charred, as the mook attempted to fan the flames away. There is a wrinkles where some stray saliva got on the paper. It is written in the same messy text, but it is full of love. Lunk loves his job and loves the people he works with. Especially Miss Razz ❤️. He won't forget his time at the house with all the pretty ladies and silly men! Or, that's what he thinks!
  21. 2 points
    The Grim was always a good fight, best of luck to you.
  22. 2 points
    Proud to have been a member of The Grim for several years, and I look forward to seeing the story continue on WrA. ❤️
  23. 2 points
    Hello! I feel like I should have posted this SOONER, but I've kinda been all over the board as far as forumers go! I am Hunter, otherwise known as Chestius, otherwise known as Mr. Pockets. I'm a small time youtuber and a huge fan of both WoW and TF2. I've been playing both for YEARS, and adore everything that comes with it! Some funny facts about me: I am very bad at video games I can do voice impressions of both the Goblins in WoW as well as the Scout in TF2 (the only difference was Smokers Lung, after all) Beyond that, I'm just a dork who loves treating WoW as an extra D&D Night. I love the game and challenge, but also love the storytelling and fun with RP. Hit me up in game for some Battlegrounds, and I look forward to seeing everyone in BfA!
  24. 2 points
    Full Name: Lunk Lunk the Destroyer Nicknames: Lunk for short Birthday: 01 April, at least that's what he's told Age: Don't ask Race: Hobgoblin Gender: Mook Hair: Mook Skin: Mook Eyes: Mook Height/Weight: Mook Place of Residence: Razz's House Place of Birth: Don't ask Known Relatives: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Religion/Philosophy: Whatever Miss Razzy tells him Occupation: Miss Razzy's Bodyguard/Protector of her house Enemies: LONK Likes: Pretty ladies (particularly Ketani Addison), his shows, bun huggers/underoos, Miss. Razzy Dislikes: Lonk, when people are mean Favourite Weapon: Zappy Stick, itchy stichy (itching powder) Favourite Food: Floaty Sammich Hobbies: Watching his shows, picking pretty flowers, and helping Miss Razzy Positive Personality Traits: Unending positivity, always tries his best Negative Personality Traits: Has the intelligence of a hobgoblin Theme Song: Womp Womp, Wimp Wimp by Mook Quartet History: Lunk work hard for Miss Razzy, write journal telling all adventures! He try hard, do best job!
  25. 2 points
    Ninorra did not like running. The warlock was built for few things that involved physical exertion. Her limbs were short and thick, used to walking or riding more than running, and her robes were too cumbersome to make the effort easy. They flailed about her as she pumped her limbs, sweat glistening on her skin despite Everson’s temperate weather. How did it get to this? She had been walking with Steinburg, recently returned from his time in Undercity. He shared the story of what happened to him there, a tale both of sadness and woe that showed itself in the way he spoke and moved; the once cheerful Forsaken, who long ago learned to ‘live’ with his new existence by working with Sanctuary as their official banker and record keeper, had gone to the Undercity recently to help a budding new government created in the Dark Lady’s absence. He sent Ninorra letters, sometimes, sharing what happened. He seemed proud of the work he did, proud of the men and women he worked with. However only a day ago, Steinburg returned to her home in Eversong a shadow of his former self. The once tidy Forsaken wore the tattered robes of a prisoner, and his hair, once so carefully taken care of, lay in limp strands over his face. He explained to Ninorra the situation, that anyone showing dissent in Undercity were “disappearing”. He considered leaving many times, but it wasn’t until Catalinetta saw him that he realized the time for his departure had come. A portal to Silvermoon was all it took, something he considered fortunate. The elves of Quel’thalas would never allow Sylvanas’ dark rangers to follow him there. Would they? Ninorra assured him that no, the Sin’dorei were a proud people. Loyal to the Warchief of course, but, the Regent Lord Lor'themar Theron would never allow her to— “Going somewhere, are we?” a deep voice said from the shadows. It was not a familiar voice. The scratchy hollow echo was similar to Steinburg’s, but it did not share the warm quality that he spoke with, in spite of his sorrow. Turning toward the voice, Ninorra gripped the scythe in her right hand. It was a monstrous weapon, known for stealing the souls of her victims and recycling them. Today it had a dark red glow, matching the red and black robes she had decided on that morning. Her own red eyes cast a faint color across her face, which was strangely relaxed. Steinburg took a step back. “Who are you?” Ninorra asked calmly. “If my friend and I have traipsed on private property, we do apologize. My own home is not far from here.” Of course, she knew that this part of the Eversong Woods was public property, a jurisdiction of Quel’thalas and under Silvermoon’s protection. Hoof beats signaled an approaching rider, but what came forward were three faces Ninorra did not entirely recognize. Two male Forsaken and one female, who, she could see, was a master of the fel arts not unlike herself. “The Warchief has requested that we apprehend this employee of the Desolate Council,” said the lead rider, a sword at his hip. Each wore a tabard of black and white. Steinburg grabbed Ninorra’s arm. “Infection,” he whispered to her. “Go, Lady. They only want me.” Ninorra frowned at the idea. Steinburg was her friend, after all. He helped raised Damian, he cared for her home while she and Vicailde were gone, and he never asked for much in return. “I am afraid that will not be happening,” she said boldly, red eyes flashing a little brighter for a moment. “Mister Steinburg is under my protection.” The Forsaken sneered terribly. “And why should that matter?” “Because I am Lady Ninorra Bloodstone,” she answered flippantly. “And my friend has committed no crimes. Our people do not simply allow strangers to walk in our land and take our friends without a damn good reason.” “The reason is that our Warchief wills it,” the lead rider said without a smile, approaching them on his skeletal horse. “And what our Warchief wills shall be done. Now. Hand over that wretch or you will also find yourself in an unpleasant situation.” Ninorra frowned deeply, her dark lipstick covered mouth turned downwards. “You cannot command me on this land. This is Quel’thalas. Not Undercity.” “This is Horde territory,” he muttered, sliding off of the horse. Drawing his sword, the Forsaken approached Ninorra and pointed it in her direction. He didn’t seem to have the patience or the desire to argue with her. “All of it.” A sudden explosion behind the other two Forsaken startled Ninorra, who turned to look at Steinburg. He was not a great mage, but in a panic he managed to conjure a big enough fireball to startle the skeletal horses of his antagonists. The one with the sword turned to snarl at his companions, who nearly fell off of their mounts. Steinburg didn’t mince words. “Run!!” Grabbing her wrist, the Forsaken made for the trees. He was faster than she would have imagined, but his plan was flawed. How could they outrun riders? Obviously, she could not. “Steinburg, what are you—“ “I will make a portal!” He shouted, running into a copse of trees. “You have to hold them off!” Of course, now this was a plan that made sense. However, if he made a portal, where would it go? If Sylvanas truly had a strangle hold on all Horde territory, where could they escape? Allowing Steinburg to work with panicked hands, Ninorra turned toward their adversaries and immediately began casting curses. They would work well against Forsaken, whose flesh was already rotting and corrupt. Unfortunately, she could only cast one at a time, and with all three of them approaching, she had no time to summon a demon to aid her. “Hurry, Steinburg!” She shouted. The first blast hit her squarely in the gut, a chaos bolt that rattled and sent blazing pain throughout her limbs. She returned the favor with a fresh bout of agony, and followed it by draining the life from her target. Forsaken may have had rotting bodies, but leeching from their soul could heal her for a time, and she only needed enough time to— “Lady!” Steinburg was shouting, the portal was finished. Waving her over, she released the soul drain and ran toward Steinburg's creation. “Don’t look back, Ninorra,” the Forsaken said hurredly, grabbing her arm to shove her through the portal. It was then that another chaos bolt hit him in the back, sending him reeling to the ground. “Steinburg!” She shouted, slamming the butt of her scythe to the ground to cast corruption at each of these attackers, each of these creatures that would dare harm her friend. They each seemed, under their armor, to writhe a bit. But what were Forsaken if not accustomed to pain and the reality of their undeath? They would keep moving until there was nothing left. The warrior who spoke before closed the gap between himself and the elf, and without a moments hesitation plunged his blade into Ninorra’s abdomen. She could hardly believe that she had let this happen, and even as shock set in and her limbs froze, she thought to herself how very silly she had been. Is this how it ends? She asked herself, falling backwards through the portal. Instantly, she found herself somewhere dark and warm, lying on her back. Pain radiated from the wound in her belly, a throbbing numbness that ached with each beat of her heart. Her back was wet, her clothes slowly soaking. That she was bleeding to death was obvious, and whatever place she was in seemed like the perfect place for it. The sound of gentle flowing water was nearby, and the rustling of robes. She heard voices somewhere, deep and concerned. A second later, the portal closed. Where was Steinburg? She couldn’t make sense of it, this rush of events. It was too quick and too well executed. Three Forsaken against one elf, who, regardless of any importance she might have imagined for herself, could not defend her friend against them. What a failure. She pictured Qabian somewhere, laughing at her. Then the world went dark.
  26. 2 points
    Clank. Clank. Clank. Catalinetta walked through Undercity, the metal of her boots clanking against the stone floors of ancient Lordaeron. They felt almost unusually loud there, underground, where the Forsaken spoke in scratchy hushed tones and moved in slow, hunched over shambles. She didn't suppose that she was in a hurry, not at first anyhow. The death knight had gone to Undercity with a specific purpose; to find a ring. There were plenty to be had down there, crafted by some of the Forsaken's most talented jewelers, and she knew exactly where to go for what she wanted. Unfortunately, as she reached the edge of the Magic Quarter, certain to find the same bright-eyed Forsaken woman who used to craft her jewelry as a newly risen death knight, Catalinetta saw that she was no longer there. The death knight paused mid-stride, staring ahead at the now empty spot. Tilting her head to one side, she considered briefly that maybe her friend was simply taking a break. Or away, visiting friends in Brill. Without hesitating, she approached another nearby Forsaken who manned a stall selling inscriptions. "Excuse me, sir," she said in her high pitched, if not hollow voice. Cat's eyes glowed with the same eerie blue of her fellow death knights. It was not the dim yellow of the Forsaken, but they often found a kinship in their undeath. Today, however, that did not come as easily. "Death to the living," he said in greeting, his voice hoarse and gravelly. He seemed to have died in mid-life, just old enough to have sprouted a few gray hairs at his temples that hung in thick clumps about his gray face. A lack of flesh in his cheeks that exposed both jawbones gave him a permanently stern expression. "What do you want?" A corner of Cat's mouth twitched. "..yeah, uh... I was wondering if you'd seen Abby?" She asked, her dark gray ears perking a little. Though she was undead, the Sin'dorei's ears still worked as they did in life, reacting to her emotions with little twitches as much her eyebrows. "She was supposed to be here today, I thought. I wanted to buy some jewelry from her." The other vendor's face made no changes. Perhaps if he had been alive she might have seen some sort of change, something in his face to indicate his thoughts on the matter. As it was, he seemed far too corpse-like to emote as she did. "Gone. She won't be coming back." Cat's eyebrows rose, scrunching her forehead in concern. "Where did she go? Is she okay?? Did something happen to her?" Now the vendor's face changed, a slow and creeping grin that gradually pulled at the sagging flesh in his face enough to make his eyes squint like half-moons. "I do not know where she went, death knight," he answered, then frowned again as his face relaxed. Smiling, Cat imagined, must have taken quite a bit of effort on his part. "But I know that she will not be coming back." For a moment, she just stared at him. Admittedly, it had been a while since she'd returned to this place, where the Forsaken once welcomed the death knights to their new status as living dead. Certainly they were different, and there were plenty of Forsaken who were distrustful of Arthas' newer creations. However as time passed, most of the Forsaken grew to learn about the curse of the death knights, their eternal bond to the Lich King, and their inherent need to cause pain. The Forsaken were free, after all. The death knights, in spite of their great strength, would never truly be independent of their creator. Things were even, in a way. So why now did this Forsaken treat her like this, she wondered? Could he tell that there was something amiss? Could he somehow detect the Mogu blood magic that coursed through her black veins, creating the illusion of life even as it reanimated her? Was it a lack of decay? It didn't matter. He was being difficult, and that much was unnecessary. "Look, I don't know what your problem is," she started, pointing a gauntlet-covered finger at the bony creature. "But Abby is my friend. So if you know something, just tell me so I can go find her. Alright?" Again, the Forsaken smiled. It appeared to take less effort this time. "I can not tell you her fate, but your search ends here. Abigaille Lefaye is gone. You might as well leave this city too, death knight. You will not find what you are looking for, here." "But--" "Catalinetta?" Another voice from behind. It was scratchy, hollow and undoubtedly Forsaken, but it was also kind and familiar. She turned to see a man, hunched over but still taller than her. His short black hair, unlike most Forsaken, was usually well kept. Today however, it was matted and disheveled. His typically well cared for robes were frayed and dull, and the once jovial look on his gently rotted face had been replaced with one of terrible remorse. "..mister Steinberg?" Indeed he was. The former accountant of Sanctuary, stolen away by the Bloodstones to Silvermoon when their guild hall was burned to the ground by Garrosh Hellscream. Though he witnessed the death of so many other guild members, one of them his own adopted son, Steinberg carried on. He helped Ninorra raise Damian in her absence. He healed his broken heart by teaching the Sin'dorei boy to read and write, and one again was given another chance at life. In a way. "Yes miss D'Aragon," he said in a slightly pained voice, as if trying to keep the sorrow from slipping. Swallowing something down, his expression turned slightly harsh. "I heard you asking about Miss Lefaye. I'm afraid she's no longer with us. If you'll come with me, I'll show you where you can buy whatever it is you need." Cat's heart sunk at the change in voice. Steinburg had always been kind to her, to everyone. What happened to change him so drastically? Tearing herself away from the other vendor, she walked to her old friend and twisted her hands together. "Sorry if I caused trouble, I just wanted to know if she was okay. Is.. did something happen?" Steinburg lowered a pair of cold yellow eyes to his old friend, the once familiar smile completely gone. "Yes. Now come with me." Following him as the Forsaken shambled away, Cat's eyes were lowered to the moldy stone floor. She held in angry tears, tears she knew would invite too many questions, and vowed to let them out later for her friend. Steinburg led her from the Magic Quarter and walked her, quicker than she would have thought him capable of, toward the elevator. "Where are we going?" "Out," he said quickly, not bothering to look back. To any of the other Forsaken, they looked like a very angry man leading a very confused elf. Both dead, both unhappy, both completely ordinary in a place where nobody should ever be happy. His steps were so quick that Cat almost found herself tripping after him, but by the time they reached the ruins of Lordaeron and rushed past the throne room of its former king, she understood where he was leading her. "Steinburg wait," she said quickly, grabbing his shoulder. The Forsaken didn't slow. "Just keep walking," he said between clenched teeth, frayed robes fluttering around his bare skeletal feet. They clacked about almost as much as her boots, which worried her. Where had his shoes gone? "Steinburg, I--" The orb stood in front of them, a bright ball of red that would take them to Silvermoon. Steinburg grabbed Catalinetta's hand and moved it to the orb, but she wrenched it away. "Wait a second!" she shouted, wrenching her arm back. "What the hell is wrong with you?? I haven't seen you in months and suddenly you're here, and you look terrible, and everything is all weird and sad! What happened to you??" The yellow glow flickered in Steinbeug's eyes. For a moment, a hint of his old self came forward and he nearly smiled at the outburst. She had always been outspoken, even in death, and it had once made him smile. But it was only for a moment. "I am Forsaken," he said simply, the frown returning as he grabbed Catalinetta's arm and pulled her to him, whispering near her long ear. "Now go home. Where you belong." Still not understanding, Cat shook her head. She wanted to argue, to yell at him and get Steinburg to snap out of whatever spell he was under, but then she stopped. His face shifted, so close to hers. It wasn't angry. It was sad. He was trying to tell her something. Go home? She thought. But he doesn't know where I live, now.. She glanced at the orb. Silvermoon. It wasn't her home, per say. Not ever. But it was the home of the Sin'dorei, and she was starting to realize that's what he wanted for her. To go there. But why? "Fine," she grunted irritably. "I'll go back to Silvermoon. Maybe I'll find what I need there." "I'm sure you will," Steinburg muttered bitterly, watching as she grabbed the orb, her form fading from sight before his eyes. A few feet behind him, another hollow voice rung out. "Who was that?" Asked an almost silvery elven voice, though it retained the same echo as his own. Steinburg turned to regard one of the dark rangers, a beautiful elven woman who, even in death, moved soundlessly. "An old acquaintance," he muttered distastefully. "She has no place here." The dark ranger nodded, and glanced back toward the entrance to Undercity. "Good. You might want to get back to work, now. There is much to be done and not as many hands to do it." Steinburg nodded and turned back, resisting the urge to glance behind him at the orb. What point would there be in leaving? The Warchief's eyes were everywhere, and the long ears of the dark rangers heard everything. He would need to think fast. Thankfully, an accountant knew how to calculate all of his options quickly. He had a plan before he reached the bottom of the elevator.
  27. 2 points
    Journal Entry 2 It has been over a year since I have decided to write in this thing. How very sad! It is a pretty journal, and I have had such adventures. Imagine me, never even writing down any of them, even as I traveled to Argus and aided my friends against the Legion. How many things have occurred since I wrote this first entry? - I allowed Damian to train with Qabian. What a disaster! He learned a lot, certainly, but at some point Qabian's ego got the better of him and he put Damian in life threatening danger. Even he thought Damian was killed and in my rage I removed one of his limbs. Damian was, of course, fine. So we have all learned a valuable lesson. - With the help of my friends, I was able to obtain my soul and defeat the demon my mother made a deal with so long ago. I am now fully whole, though the idea is still strange and the curse of my eyes remains. What, if any changes this will make to my personality, are yet to be seen. - During the ceremony in which I retrieved my soul, my dear subordinate Corvallis, as well as Helnia, were lost to us. I miss them both dearly, but Damian took it the hardest. I believe he and Corvallis bonded quite a bit, and I have promised to try and find him. - The guild is moving. We will no longer have a place in Dalaran, but in Razor Hill, Shattrath, and Ashtotem. This makes very little difference to me, but I do enjoy Shattrath! It brings back a lot of happy memories from the war in Outland. Imagine, happy memories and war! - Still no word from my large friend who was hidden with us for some time. I imagine he is somewhere out in the world, making trouble. Always so serious, that one. I do miss him. - Since bonding with my little soul, my memories have been a bit jumbled. Everything is coming back to me, especially with reminders, but a few things remain fuzzy. I have the strangest feeling that I am forgetting something important, but so far nothing has been made clear. - I have had the strangest craving for sparkling white wine, lately. Not at home, of course. I will have to find someone to share a bottle with. Maybe brunch?
  28. 2 points
    By the time Vilmah returned to Wor’gol, it was past midnight. Most of the village was already asleep, and the moon cast a bright blue sheen over the snow covered ground that crunched as Edmund bounded through the snow. Attached to his back was a rudimentary sled slapped together with wood and rope, something Vilmah constructed to carry the corpse of her kill. She had strapped down the large she-wolf with yet more rope, but in the moonlight its fur appeared eerily blue, like a brightly colored creature from the jungles of Azeroth rather than a wolf on Draenor. As she approached the village, a few of their still awake warriors waved to her. She waved back and was soon met with Tuyya, who rode out to meet her with sleepy eyes on the back of her black wolf. “That was fast!” She said sarcastically. “I was hoping you wouldn’t need to spend all night out there. Did she hurt you?” Holding up her right arm, Vilmah let Tuyya see the hastily wrapped wound of her right arm. The purple sweater had been stashed in her saddle bag just a mile before reaching the village. “I hope one of your shaman is awake,” she said with a weary smile. “I got her worse than she got me, though. I don’t think she was very interested in living.” “Grief does that to people,” Tuyya agreed, turning her wolf to walk back beside Vilmah. “And animals too, strangely. You brought back the body, though? I would have thought you only needed the fur.” “Can’t let good meat go to waste,” Vilmah reasoned, shrugging. “Even if it’s just dog meat.” Tuyya grinned. “You’re learning quickly. When you first came to us you would have eaten the meat raw on your own, like some crazed animal.” Vilmah’s lip twitched as she lowered her eyes to the snow. “When you first met me I was still very much a crazed animal,” the smaller orc explained, embarrassed. “I’m not exactly proud of that.” “There aren’t many of us who are proud of ourselves at our lowest point. It brought you to us, though, didn’t it?” “War brought me to you,” Vilmah argued gently. “..but I think my grief is what made me stay. And the fact that you all didn’t just kick me out. I’m sure I didn’t make for an impressive prospective new clan member.” “You think we love everyone in the clan?” Tuyya laughed. “Your blood ties you to us, regardless of whatever it is that took you away to begin with. You told me that your mother was one of us. That’s enough for us to give you a chance, and you earned your place.” An uncomfortable silence followed Tuyya’s words, as if Vilmah wanted to agree but couldn’t bring herself to. In truth, she was having trouble not telling Tuyya that she was Vilmah’s mother, and if the portal to Azeroth hadn’t been opened, if Tuyya’s thirst for adventure hadn’t brought her to the arms of a Blackrock orc, Vilmah never would have existed to begin with. “Thanks Tuyya,” she said gratefully, smiling a little in spite of the conversation. “Thanks for being my friend.” “Don’t get all dramatic,” Tuyya chuckled. “I just hate seeing the little guy get stepped on. Or in your case, the little girl. And you looked so sad, like a kicked puppy. Who would kick a puppy? Don’t worry, guura kad dok mara. You’re one of us, now. That means you’ll never really be alone again,” she said reassuringly, punching Vilmah in the left shoulder. “..for better or worse.” "Sounds like quite the commitment," Vilmah said sarcastically, smirking. Tuyya rolled her eyes. "Believe me, it can be a pain in the ass. Any time I even suggest leaving for a long hunt, my family comes up with some reason to make me stay. Commitments, the need to find a mate, it's like they've forgotten what it's like to explore past the forest sometimes. Makes me want to get my hands dirty somewhere new." Vilmah bit the inside of her cheek. It was that wanderlust that caused the Tuyya that she knew to leave through the portal in the first place, and die starving in a cage. "They have a point. I mean.. you have everything you need here, don't you? People love you, here." "I don't disagree with that, but there's more to life than being loved," the orcess argued. "There's adventure, and you can't get that here. Not anymore, anyway. I treasure my clan, but there's more out there than this place. I want to see it." A feeling of dread overcame Vilmah's stomach, like she'd swallowed a mouthful of bees. Tuyya wasn't the type to let anyone hold her back, and she would eventually leave, even if it meant leaving everything behind. The idea of losing her for a second time, this person who, in another lifetime, gave her life for Vilmah's, made the Warboss pale with fear. "..you could come with me," she found herself saying. "Come to Azeroth, help me with Sanctuary. There's a few Frostwolves in Razor Hill, I'm sure you'll feel right at home. Even if it's in a desert.." Tuyya's eyes widened. "Really? You want me to come with you?" In truth, Vilmah would have preferred that this version of her mother stayed in Draenor, pure in her own way, and untouched by Azeroth's brutality. Knowing that it wasn't in her nature to stay in one place, however, the Warboss nodded quickly. "Yeah, of course. It'd be nice having you there. Plus, plenty of orcs in Azeroth," she joked, smiling a little more. "If your family is worried about you finding a mate." "Can you imagine if I were to bring home one of your green friends??" The orcess laughed, bouncing on her wolf. "Oh they would have an absolute fit! Yes, let's do it! I'll go with you to Azeroth and help your Sanctuary! Right after we clean your blue wolf, of course. You can bring home a wolf pelt and a Frostwolf!" Smiling at her excitement, Vilmah nodded in agreement. Whether or not this was for the best, she couldn't say, but at the very least she'd be able to keep an eye on Tuyya.
  29. 2 points
    5.28.18 I haven’t seen Shaelie since that day. I haven’t seen anyone from Sanctuary since then. It’s been a quiet few weeks, other than continuing to clean up the remaining Legion forces in Antorus. I did catch sight of a human woman who matches the description of the woman who killed my messenger in Tirisfal. She also matches the description of a killer responsible for some other murders in the area over the past couple years. I saw her in Dalaran, and guards were nearby, so there wasn’t much I could do other than talk to her. She lied to me about her name, but someone else called her “Bronnie.” I will see if I can find someone with contacts in Stormwind to get more information. The Magister continues to baffle me. After suggesting the Commander would hurt me badly for having an Alliance boyfriend, he gave me a gift. Why he thinks I would ever have a boyfriend at all, let alone an Alliance one, is beyond me, but the gift was very interesting. A vase with a contraption inside it that would release whatever was in it—poison, sleeping agents, whatever—when someone got close enough to smell the flowers in it. I usually don’t like traps where I can’t control exactly who the target is, but it may come in handy someday. I have to take the potions more often. I know Tahz doesn’t want me to release it, but I can’t let it weaken me anymore. Eastvale is far enough from any Horde lands, and it won’t be the first time they’ve dealt with something like this there. I’ll take it there. Soon. We have one active Supplicant right now, but she is enough trouble to be three usual Supplicants. Umbral continues to keep digging herself deeper into a hole. Even the Commander has noticed it, and spoke to Qabian and me about her. The last time the Grim leader spoke to me about an unruly Supplicant was Cessily. Other than general lack of proper respect for the higher ranks of The Grim, even Awatu himself, she has called me a waitress, and now she’s bitten off a chunk of someone’s ear. Normally, I wouldn’t have a problem with that, but when it’s a friend, and further a friend of a very good friend, then it’s a problem. I still haven’t decided how much to protect her from any retaliation. Maybe she deserves what she gets. And the waitress comment, I’m sure she doesn’t realize the meaning behind it. How could she? She’s not smart enough to have done any research, and she doesn’t have the contacts to have had that information handed to her. No, it was just a rude comment, from a Supplicant to an Inquisitor, and that alone is enough to cost her an ear. Luckily for her, she seems to have become more competent in her skill at killing. She’s provided me with many Alliance tabards in her search for the ones I sent her for. That isn’t enough to excuse her behavior though. After all, Cessily was a powerful killer too, and that didn’t save her ears.
  30. 2 points
    It's been a long time but another food experiment has happened! This time with wild-gathered Black Locust tree blossoms. While visiting Syreena, we found and decided to try these tasty little flowers from her property. Much thanks to SySy for being adventurous and allowing use of her kitchen. <3 We used this recipe (with some substitutions for the evil, evil dairy): http://southernforager.blogspot.com/2013/05/black-locust-blossom-fritters-yummmmm.html The results were quite tasty, like eating funnel cake! Next time, I believe I will go lighter on the dredging of the flowers in the batter, so the flowers can be tasted. <.< >.> Flowers being dredged: Frying the Flowers: Finished Black Locust flower funnel cake: All of them got eaten by the three adults, flower fritters defeated! These trees are flowering all over the place right now, or are soon about to in more northern areas. They're a native, plentiful tree so if you watch for them to bloom, you'll be swimming in tasty treats! Mmmmm.
  31. 2 points
    Mmhmhmhm... Ahahahahahaha! I win. Oh, how I win. Nothing I can take back to the Grim, of course, but mine is a dangerous ego to stroke, hm? Taunt me with something you think I can't do that I know I can. 'Oh, no,' I'll admit. 'I could never do that. I'm simply no good at it. It's just not me.' A little vulnerability, not even mock vulnerability, very real, but a wager in a bet I cannot lose, a little honesty, and just enough arrogance that who I am is never forgotten so I cannot be blamed for any deception. And fuck you. I win. Truth and lies, truth and lies. That's what chaos is made of, yes? And what am I if not chaos? Is it true? Of course it is. Was it lies? Of course it was. Reality is never either or. It's always both. Little human with broken eyes he needs to hide thinks he's being generous, offering me a chance to put him in his place. You don't need to make the offer, boy. You're already there. Why would you admit that secret of all secrets in front of me? And I'm sure my secret only made you feel worse, hm? You're not special. You're not even different. You're just a broken, defiled version of the real people all around you. Enjoy your misery. I certainly enjoyed giving it to you. What an odd defect in me to harp on when it was caused by someone you claim as a friend. When what I have done with what I have lost is something greater than I could have done had I kept what I had, am I really even defective? Or have I improved? That's what we're all here for, to get better. I've gotten better. Have you? When you will never feel equal to the people around you because you never can be their equal? You can steal their faces, their friendship, their power as much as you want, but you will always be a pretender, and you will always have to hide your shame, because the day you accept yourself and live as you are is the day you'll die for it. I have no shame. I wonder how long I can play the lost bet excuse. We certainly gamble, but even though my win rate is expectedly even with my losses, what I ask for is always for my own greed. What she asks for is always my debasement, not enough to spark my anger or make me second guess, but enough to keep her laughing. I should have caught on to this sooner, especially after her little gift to Syreena. I think I did? And decided the price was worth it, and even a little entertaining for myself. The masochistic tendencies extending beyond physical pain, perhaps. I like it when she laughs, even if it's at my expense, and it's almost always at my expense. Explains too much. I shouldn't think about it too hard. The wolf's advice is good. I'm always uncertain about plans that require biding, infiltration, masks of sweetness. I can do them to a point. I have my networks and systems that I use to pull on threads hoping they'll bring down the tapestries. But such things are distasteful when chaos will suffice. Yes, I understand the idea behind a little order serving to bring a lot of chaos, but such games are difficult to play and rarely end well. When they do end well, they end very, very well, but the risk tends to be on our side, not on theirs. Still, leading them patiently to their own failure is clearly our best option in the present, regardless of whether the pendulum swings in the way they seem so certain it will. The violet commander's marital issues have caused a strange sea change. I, for one, don't think that little shift is enough to warrant the sudden acceptance of things as they are. They aren't different enough. I've only met the little warboss once? But I certainly have no faith that she's any sweeter. I blame the turning of the winds with the defeat of the Legion. Everything looks just slightly different, even when it isn't really. Old hurts have been fogged over just enough by time to be put aside long enough for coffee and brunch. And I'm able to hear things I should never hear, share things that should never have been mine to share. I can sit quietly and let them berate me as much as they wish, speaking only when spoken to, offering only the gentlest of contributions, and still come across as cruel and strange. It's quite enjoyable, really. I've had far too much enjoyment lately. It's going to my head. But given what led me to be so entertained in the first place, I'll take it.
  32. 2 points
    05.02.18 I used to say Sanctuary had tea parties with the Alliance. Yesterday, I had coffee with one of the purple people. That short-eared elf, who is half human and a mage and Sanctuary—everything I hate—so why didn’t I feel the urge to stab him repeatedly? Maybe because he didn’t act like any of those things. I learned that the leadership has changed among the purple people. Julilee, Kex’ti, and Shokkra are all gone from there now. Just Cerryan left, and though I hate him for what he did to me, what his actions turned me into, I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same in his position. Maybe it’s time for my war with them to end for good. The Grim and Sanctuary worked alongside each other once, a long time ago, when Vilmah was in charge. Maybe that is an option again if we are in need of more bodies for an assault someday. I doubt Vilmah would talk with me though. I could send a Supplicant if necessary, or better yet, maybe I’ll just stay in contact with the short-eared elf. He’s easy to talk to. I wonder if there’s something with mixing elf blood with another bad blood, that makes the two bads cancel each other out. Baal has demon blood in him, thanks to the Grim warlocks, and he’s nice. And Mard has human in him, and he seems nice….so far. There’s no question that demons, humans, and elves are all vile and cruel, but maybe mixing two bad races together somehow makes something good. I also learned that Shaelie has joined Sanctuary. I wasn’t planning to attack her. I really wasn’t. We used to pick on the purple people together in Warspear, we tortured that human Ambassador lady together. Shaelie always had my back. For a long time, I thought she was a decent person….for an elf….a friend even. But when I saw her in the Wyvern’s Tail yesterday, she didn’t seem to care about any of that. She actually said she thought it was totally justified that they attacked us at Aerie Peak, and Grim should stay in their own yard and not bother Alliance. I don’t know what the fel happened to the Shaelie I knew, but this one is a traitor to the Horde, as far as I’m concerned. But she is human after all, so I shouldn’t be surprised.
  33. 2 points
    A taste of what the Loa's gift could do spoke volumes for the effect it would have on its intended target. It refused to be treated, even showing a tenacity that hinted at intelligence as it would strike as one disease, retreat, and return in a new form. His fever ran high for hours, sheeting his form in sweat and chilling him to the bone. Then, the pain left him as if the sickness had simply given up its struggle, leaving him stunned with sheer relief. It gave him just enough time to nurture a brief hope that it was over, only to crush it within an hour. It returned in a new form and plagued his body and mind with a new kind of torture. Night and day lost meaning as he cycled through a list of symptoms seemingly at random. Tormented reality gave way to fever dreams when his body, taxed to its limits and in desperate need of recovery, succumbed to exhaustion. He stood before a river of sludge with a stench that was thick enough to taste. It had an odor that clung to his saliva and made him gag and heave for all the good it did. It reminded him of Venture company operations, but even they had not managed to produce such disgusting runoff. Lengths of cloth stuck to the top of the putrid river but he could not make out the details of them as his eyes swung hazily in and out of focus. When the world resolved itself, he was able to make out the gold and purple thread of one tabard and the matching designs on the others that stuck to the surface of the thick river behind it. The foul river slowly pushed itself along the earth, carrying over a dozen of the Phoenix marked tabards. He felt a moment of Grim pleasure that was quickly chased away by confusion as he saw the growing number of tabards stuck to the disease-ridden sludge. It would have helped him sleep at night to see the head of the self-important group of traitors along with several other vile hypocrites who followed her. But the number of discarded tabards wa far too high for his plan. In each of the tabards he caught a glimpse of their owner. A shudder of rage turned into a quiver of sadistic satisfaction as the first two passed him. Julilee had lectured him about the importance of preserving life, something she accused Lilliana of having no sense of after her betrayal. When he had dismissed her words and told her that she had attacked a pregnant woman, he had not detected a hint of remorse, in fact, he had seen annoyance that he was still pursuing the conversation. The effect her actions had on him were unimportant, she did not care. He bore his teeth in an unkind grin as she was sucked below the surface, buried in the same substance that she was filled with. She was followed by more of them. Syreena's now scarred tormentor smirked cruelly and looked down his nose at him before being swallowed by the river. Shokkra sneered and screamed soundlessly in pointless rage as she was sucked down and drowned. A feeling of grim vindication grew as he saw more of them disappear. The faces kept coming. Vilmah's embarrassed smile was smothered, Mardallius laughed quietly before being covered, Kexti's arrogant smirk was slowly saturated before being coated completely, Siane's warm smile went cold, and the sad expression of the one-eyed troll disappeared quietly beneath the surface. More people passed by him, faces he associated with the tabard but had never spoken to, people he bore no ill will towards save for their association. All were consumed by the muck and disease. The last of the articles to disappear was not a tabard, but a pair of manacles and a stained apron. His own face stared back at him as the manacles clasped around his wrists and the chain leading him began tugging downwards. " It'll fix errytin'." He assured himself as the odious sludge reached up to his chest. He had no reply for his own deluded statement. " She'll love us again!" The imprisoned man cried out at him as it reached up to his neck, desperate to justify his own actions, just like the ones he would be joining. He wanted to scream at the fool of a bartender but could only manage another choked noise as he sank below the muck. The river soon became choked with more discarded items. Shoes, shirts, dresses, trade equipment, swords and more bunched together so thickly he could barely make out the sludge that transported them until they disappeared beneath its surface. Once again, he saw faces, yet they were indistinct and unfocused. There were hundreds of them, perhaps even thousands. Countless faces flickered in front of him as the crowd of plague-ridden people passed by and disappeared. This had been his agreement. A virulent disease to consume his enemy in the worst way possible, but it could not be controlled once released. How many in Sanctuary would be killed in his hope to slay a handful? The price of it left a frozen lump in his stomach, he wanted one person dead, but he could not control the spread once it was released. The reward for this indiscriminate death dealing clasped him on the shoulder and gave him a warm, yet false smile. The Farraki was pleased with him, excited even at the blow dealt to a hated enemy. With one hand she grasped his and gave him an insistent tug to turn his back on the foul carnage wrought, with the other she held a bloody blob of disfigured fat and flesh that defied identification; a mutated freak even in the eyes of parasites and maggots. She spoke words of love and approval that spilled out as a black, oily sludge between her teeth and dribbled down her chin over her body and their son. The letter of her message he had longed to hear, but the soul of it was absent. He doubled over as an overpowering sense of nausea and joy forced its way through him. His veins bulged and threatened to burst as the sickness of body and mind invaded him. He enjoyed it, he was sick and twisted mess of a pretty troll, and he loved it. He toppled forward and sank into the cold, slimy mud by the foul river. The earth consumed the last ray of light and all sense of self disappeared with it.
  34. 1 point
    Down, deep within the sprawl of the Seal's halls, she found the banner the woman had described. An eager-eyed orc stood beside it, dressed in black chainmail with red accents. He addressed her the moment she was in range, before it was even reasonable to assume that his hall was her destination. "Throm-ka, paladin! The Reach could always use more of your kind. Have you come to enlist, following our recent victory?" She continued until she stopped in front of him, her gaze briefly moving to the banner. It was not far removed from the Kor'kron banner Shokkra had kept in her room. To the orc she said, "No, I'm looking for one of your members. Kex'ti, Kex'ti Dalendala." "Dalendala? Oh. Huh. Who're you to him?" the orc asked, hand on his pike. Juli paused, distinctly. Wasn't that quite the question. The answer she finally came up with was, "Julilee Liene. He'll know who I am." "Oh. Uh huh." The orc seemed to know what that meant. "Well, he's back about three torches on the left. Should be sparring with Tulip, Ochiga, Kaeeli, and Gorgath. I'll escort you." He added the very last sheepishly after Juli simply looked at him for a moment, since he stood blocking the doorway. "Thank you." The orc nodded. The thirst for drama was evident in his hurried pace as they entered the Warscar Reach barracks. Past the third torch, the hallway angled down to a veranda with overhanging vines. A sandy ring lay in the middle. A white-haired Sin'dorei stood in the center of the arena, a burly Blackrock orc and a lithe Nightborne strafing around him. He hadn't noticed the newcomers yet. "Think fast, old man!" yelled the Nightborne then, rushing in to take a swing at the back of the elf's head. The orc growled and charged in at the same time, low, aiming to tackle the elf's waist. Outside of the arena, a goblin kicked her feet on a planter, and a pandaren monk sipped at a cup of tea, cross-legged, as they watched the sparring match. Juli stood in the archway and observed. Kex'ti twisted lithely and leaned back to catch the Nightborne's fist, only to spy Julilee as he did so. A moment of confusion crossed his face. "Juli?" he muttered, then the orc's converted uppercut connected with his jaw. The phenomenal strike landed him in the Nightborne's arms, caught and hanging limply by the armpits. "Whoa, hey, wait a second!" called the goblin. "Kex'ti, you alright?" She hopped off the decorative container and walked over, summoning a few drops of healing rain onto the sand. "I wasn't expecting that to work!" boasted the orc. "But... are you okay?" Kex'ti never took his eyes off Juli. He spat some blood into the muddy dirt. "I am fine, everyone. Excuse me a moment." He held a hand to his cheek and began to mend the damage as he regained his feet. Then he walked calmly over towards her, limping only slightly. Juli stayed where she was, letting Kex'ti approach. Seeing him... It felt different. Everything was different now. It evoked feelings she wasn't allowed to have anymore. She found she didn't know what to say, and was silent. He looked different. He was dressed in sparring leathers in red and black. The red on black of his tabard looked out of place compared to the purple and gold he'd worn for so many years. His beard was much better kept, very close to the sides of his angular face. He'd lost a lot of weight. He'd never been fat, exactly, but it was clear the traveling with a military branch left little time for him to bulk up to his usual size, or perhaps the lack of quality food... None of it mattered. He was there. She was looking upon him. And she could tell him what she'd spent every day these past six months hoping she'd have a chance to say. "I see you have matched your hair to mine," he chuckled. She'd forgotten how different she looked, too. Her armor was no longer muted purple and gold, but white, dark gray, and gold, and lacking tabard, pauldrons, or shield. And her hair, long now, had become as white as his. The last changes she hadn't known about until she came across the mirror in the ruins. Her eyes no longer glowed green. They glowed gold. The differences were so striking that it was remarkable he had recognized her instantly. No one else would have. "Yeah, I guess." She paused. The words wouldn't come out, hardly. "I just wanted you to know I'm alive. I thought... You would want to know." "Should we go somewhere to talk?" he asked. "Probably." He raised a hand to his eyes and rubbed them. "Fine, let us head out to the general concourse." He walked past her, causing the orc guard, who had been hovering, to start hastily moving back toward his post. The goblin in the arena called after Kex'ti. "Uh, you want your staff?" "No, Tulip. I will not be long," he said, wearily. He glanced to Julilee, and nodded out back towards the humid mid-day heat.
  35. 1 point
    The Exodar: At last there was a response on his hearthstone, an unfamiliar woman's smoke-roughened voice gave a quivering reply. "Are you, Aruku?" "Yes, where's Janala?!" A pause, then, "I'm... I'm sorry. We got trapped in the burrows. My child and I, she shared her hearthstone with us. We all tried to use, but she didn't... make it." Janala's hearthstone had been set to their home, here on Azuremyst. The bottom dropped out of his previously clenched stomach, leaving him feeling cold and alone. They were gone, his wife and his unborn daughter both. "... Hello?" It took him a long moment to regain enough composure to reply, voice thick with emotion, "Thank you, for letting me know." Long ears wilted and shoulders drooping he stared at what was now the funeral pyre for two of his loved ones, along with many other unfortunates. Some time later his kids found him, having come up to see as well. They all hugged one another, a small family group among the crowd of many. "Where's mom?" One of them asked timidly, afraid of the answer. Looking at the kids surrounding him the young man swallowed his feelings, forcing them to the back and locking them away. Vemy was right, he was going to be needed even more right now. They all were. "Don't worry, I'm sure she's fine. She's a druid, she can fly, remember?" Forcing a smile he tried to reassure the kids and keep them calm. Once they weren't needed for the injuries coming from Darnassus, then they could mourn. "But there's gonna be a lot of people from the big tree who'll need our help, so let's go back inside and start, aye?" Giving each a kiss and hug he went back inside with them, dropping them off on the way to the clinic. When he came back the elf was no longer smiling. Instead a subdued, grim person returned and went quietly to work, eyes hollow with pent up loss. Finishing his shift with Vemy he saw her off, then went back in to keep working. Sanjay seemed to have the same idea. The monk had not left the hospital since he returned to the Exodar, and had worked through several assistants in the whirlwind days since. He adopted Aruku during nightly rounds and forced a cup of tea into the elf’s hand. “If you intend to stay and you wish to be useful, you will drink that and steel yourself,” he says. Aruku didn't balk and simply drank the tea, not noticing the taste at all. "Alright." He couldn't sleep anyways. Being assistant to Sanjay kept him occupied and they worked together in quiet accord. It was like a grim test of stamina between the two as they settled into a work rhythm. Working their way through the next few days without sleep and only taking breaks for necessities the pair efficiently treated as many victims and refugees as they could; mostly those folk from Teldrassil or near it who had gotten 'lucky' in escaping via means other than the portal to Stormwind. Azuremyst was the nearest safe port for anyone without teleportation. It was dawning on the third day after the tragedy when the thin blood elf finally collapsed between one step and the next, having driven himself to his limits. Strain lined his face even while unconscious, leaving him looking worn out and used up. With all the beds in the clinic and its overflow area filled it ended up being Vemy who took the exhausted young man home and put him in bed there. With her husband gone there was plenty of room for a scrawny elf and between her shifts she took care of him too. ----------------------------------- Resting he might be in bed but Aruku's mind was fitful, struggling to make sense of everything that had happened. The Horde set fire to Teldrassil, a World tree. Those damn stupid orcs, those hateful undead. Why had no one stopped it? Why had no one stood up? What had the Tauren been doing with all their Earthmother talk? The blood elves should have known destroying a magical world tree was bad! Even the goblins should have recognized that Teldrassil was more profitable existing than being ashes! …. did those in the Horde he had counted as friends, had they been part of this? Had people he'd healed been the cause of this suffering? Even unprovoked, the Horde would attack and kill. They might as well be The Grim. He could feel bitterness replacing the emptiness inside of him, that once had held such love for everyone and everything. Was this how the world had always been, and the Light had just made him blind to it? Without Janala he alone had to raise all these kids; find a way to support, feed and clothe them. Bitterness sparked anger, helplessness turned into frustration. Without magical talent, physical prowess or mental sharpness how was he supposed to do that? Alchemy made some gold, but all the best herbs were in dangerous places. And worst of all he looked like a Horde. Aruku was almost tempted to fix that by embracing the Void but some lingering bit of self preservation kept him from doing it. With the state of mind he was in he'd be lost to it immediately. Driven with no goal he rose, mechanically taking his hearthstone to set up a place for his kids to be taken care of while he lost himself in trying to find a new path to follow, a reason to continue.
  36. 1 point
    Things continued that way for some time. The routine changed when Sanjay returned with the new patients and healers. The clinic exploded in size and began to resemble a true hospital, albeit with few real walls or beds. Though it was easy to get lost in the tangled mass of wounded, sick, and healers, Aruku found himself constantly working alongside Vemynisa. Every day they grew more in-sync, able to assist one another with barely a word spoken between them. The Draenei spoke to the elf freely about nearly anything, and was an attentive listener when Aruku spoke. While Aruku didn't seem to think the near constant presence of Vemy was odd, he did end up opening up and relaxing around her more, acting more his normal self. That came with both raunchy jokes, casual flirting & talk of his family, at least as far as she was comfortable with. One of their break conversations over hot beverages; coffee for Vemy, tea for Aruku; turns to baking plans to treat the staff. Both of them have spouses who are hazards in the kitchen so it'd be a nice change of pace to make food with someone else... and maybe afterwards they can enjoy one another's company in a different way. Before more plans are made Sanjay bursts into the room, clenching his jaw with iron strength. “Those damn maniacs...you two haven’t heard yet, have you?” He glances between the two, his eyes stern and angry, but underneath the anger there lies something Aruku has never seen in Sanjay before. Fear. Puzzlement and worry showed on the thin man's face, and by the lack of reaction it was evident before he even spoke that he hadn't heard. "What happened?" While his mind flew through several thoughts he wasn't about to presume what it might be yet. “It’s Teldrassil,” the monk says, “The Horde set fire to it. The entire tree is ablaze.” Vemynisa gasps. She puts a hand over her mouth. “By the Naaru...” Aruku stared blankly at Sanjay for a long moment, his mind refusing to grasp what the words meant. Teldrassil couldn't be completely on fire, it was giant! When Sanjay's expression didn't change his golden eyes grew wide in alarm and he spun to dash for the door. While recklessly speeding off he dug out his hearthstone, trying to reach his wife in Darnassus to let her know if she didn't already. Sanjay sidesteps, still cursing under his breath. Vemynisa leaps to her hooves and races after the elf. "Aruku!" she calls after him, "I--I think we're going to need you even more now..." She fidgets nervously. Too wrapped up in the panic of trying to make sure his wife was alive and safe, and needing to see this with his own eyes the blood elf bolted out of the clinic and across the Exodar. It seemed everyone was still in a bit of shock at the news so he managed to exit unhindered, panting as he passed through the bits of wall around the city till he could get a view of Teldrassil. Already there was dark smoke making a smudge on the sky in that direction, under lit by an angry orange light. He wasn't the only one out here either. Others had come out to stare in horrified disbelief to the north east. Men, women, young, old, all were gathered in an eerie quiet vigil only broken by sobbing here and there.
  37. 1 point
    Bitterly cold winds whipped around the summit of Highmountain. Ice and rain kicked up by the storm tore into and around around the pair that was working their way towards the summit, struggling intermittently against the heavy gusts heavy rain. Despite the saddle that rested on the Frostwolf's back, Garinth trudged stoically alongside his partner. Wrapped in heavy armor and the thick furs traditional for his clan, his progress was slow in the thin air. It had been hours since they had set out on the last leg of their path, and the half-orc was grateful when the heavily built longhouse came into sight ahead. A flash of lightning illuminated the area more brightly, pulverizing the rock it struck and sending a crash of thunder across the crag. Undaunted, Garinth guided his partner through the storm and up to the heavy wooden door that protected the structure. His fist thudded against it three times, then again after a few moments without a response. Finally, a bar on the door could be heard being removed from the other side. An old highmountain tauren appeared a moment later, looking over the guest and scoffing. "I should have known," the elder said in taur'ahe, then moved out of the way. "Get inside little wolf, before your friend freezes." Garinth ushered the massive frostwolf inside, and then followed after. "He's fine," Garinth managed to reply from under the wrap covering his face, turning around to look at his host. "And I couldn't wait for the storm to pass." He pulled the helmet and scarf free of his face, watching as the door was barred again. "Things aren't in the greatest shape back home at the moment, and I need to be able to get back." “That seems a constant state for your or your home,” was the swift reply, followed immediately by a cautious study of the half-orc. “The letter said you wished to study the runes that sealed the nercodark and the abomination? Why?” “I don’t think what happened here was isolated Holun, and I don’t think I know anyone who is actively trying to work to protect against it.” Garinth moved quickly to shed the wet layers of fur from himself as he spoke, stacking the garments in a pile near the fire. “I know you can’t tell me anything without getting into some trouble, so I am just asking for a place to stay. I know some of the wards that were used were placed up here. I will try to stay out of your fur as much as possible.” The white furred tauren grumbled something incomprehensible in response, before shaking his head and moving to stoke the fire in the center of the structure. “You will try, but we both know that you won’t Garinth. You will need a guide, and likely…advice. From someone who doesn’t care what anyone else thinks anymore.” There was a subtle shift in the tauren’s manner and voice after the pause, seeming to find more humor in the idea than before. Strangely though, it fated just as abruptly as it came. “Maybe…” Garinth allowed, moving over to Greywind and starting to remove some of the packs that been attached to the frostwolf’s harness. “But at least I brought some compensation for you this time. Cured pork, whiskey, and some of the herbs you like to apply to your knees.” Thunder cracked again outside, interrupting the explanation briefly. It drew the half-orc’s attention to the door, but after a few heartbeats he resumed freeing his partner of the heavy burden he carried. “Honestly though, I’d give them to you just for letting me in.” The tauren chuckled at that, but let the young half-orc work. “We can discuss it after the two of you warm up some. The storm won’t let up until tomorrow morning anyway. We’ll have plenty of time.”
  38. 1 point
    Hi guys, and welcome to roleplay! This guide is designed to give you a basic understanding of where to begin, terms and basic etiquette so you can feel comfortable when just starting out, as well as some suggested addons and additional resources. Please note that some of the terms and concepts I mention you may have heard of before: this is because this guide is meant to cover as much as possible from the ground up! GLOSSARY OF TERMS/ABBREVIATIONS RP - RolePlay, in context usually referring to a group of people creating a story within the bounds of the lore of the game IC - In Character, this refers to any speech, thoughts, actions or anything else that is created from a character's perspective. If you someone says they are "IC" it means that they are currently playing the character and any actions or things they say are interpreted as coming from the character OOC - Out Of Character, essentially the opposite of IC, its anything that’s just coming from the player themselves and not the character, if someone says they're doing something "OOC" it means that whatever they're doing isn't the actions of the character Canon - This refers to anything that is accepted by the RP community as being fact, or existing, this can refer to lore that exists in the game itself or it can be used to talk about events that have happened in RP. Example: "Is it actually canon that your character plays the saxophone?" If you said that as a joke OOC, the answer would be no, if it’s actually in character that your character plays the sax, the answer is yes PM/DM/Whisper - sending someone a private message Powerlevel - refers to how powerful characters within a community are, different guilds and RP communities operate on different powerlevels. Some guilds might be playing their characters as able to take down a wild god and others might play their characters as common footsoldiers who can only really go toe to toe with a gnoll PC/OC - Player Character or Original Character, this refers to the characters people play generally for an extended period of time. Usually this is reflected by an actual character that they have ingame. NPC - Non Player Character, this can either refer to a character written by Blizzard who exists in the game and is not played by any player or characters invented for short term usage by players that are played within roleplay to further a story. Example: I once briefly played a judge for a scene where some PCs were in trouble with the law ERP - Erotic Roleplay, roleplay with a sexual/erotic context Post - Used more commonly to describe out of game rp (discord/forum/tumblr), a post contains all the actions and dialog a character of a certain moment, generally rotating players post by post as the rp progresses Scene - this usually refers to one session of rp in a single setting, if you have a conversation in a bar with someone, and then later meet up with them to kill skeletons, those are two different scenes Storyline/Campaign - an overarching story that takes up multiple scenes, usually with several characters DM/GM - Dungeon Master/Game Master, a term taken from DnD, this is the person who guides a storyline and is ultimately in control of where it goes and what opposition the players face Metagaming - Using OOC knowledge to give a character an advantage IC OP/Powergaming - (OverPowered) Someone who uses a powerlevel much higher than the people they are RPing with PvP - Player versus Player, anything that pits one player or PC against one another PvE - Player versus Environment, pitting player or players against NPCs RP Dissonance - a descriptor for when two characters/stories are incompatible because of conflicting lore/character interactions with the world/power level/etc. Example: two characters that both have and always carry The Ashbringer IC trying to interact Tavern/Campfire RP - RP that is generally relatively unattached to a storyline and is simply a social venture Godmodding - taking control of another player's character in a roleplay (very bad) OOC vs IC The first and most basic thing to understand when starting out in roleplay is that IC and OOC are separate things and should be kept separate. Your character can hate my character and we can still be friends as players! It's extremely important to keep communication OOC open to prevent any hard feelings. If someone says something mean to you in character; understand that it does not mean that they don't like you OOC. Generally though, if you are saying something mean or hurtful to someone IC it’s a good idea to reassure them OOC. Usually when RPing in game you'll have a channel that's dedicated to talking OOCly: sometimes this is an actual chat channel in game that you can /join <channel name>, many guilds will have these and TNRH also has community and /join RP for the whole server, but sometimes it's just party or raidchat. Whatever channel you use will likely be labeled or agreed on beforehand, but if you ever have to say something OOC in an IC channel you can denote that by putting a double parenthesis on either side: ((like this! Anything written in here will be understood to be OOC)) Sometimes people will just tack them on the end of a single line or post and it will mean the same thing.)) In game, /say and /emote (or /me) are pretty much always considered to be IC when RPing. Generally, if you're not sure if a channel in game is IC or OOC (/guild might vary by guild for example) just ask with the ((double parenthesis.)) In forums, they are usually labeled by section as to whether they're IC or OOC. In discord RP, usually IC channels and OOC channels are specified by either channel name or category. SPELLING, GRAMMAR and ACCENTS Generally speaking in roleplay you're going to want to write with proper grammar and spelling to the best of your ability. If you have some difficulty that causes more than average errors, such as dyslexia or if you're RPing in a language that isn't your first, it might be a good idea to let your partner know OOCly that you care about the RP but might have a bit of trouble with spelling or grammar. In my experience everyone is extremely understanding of someone who's having trouble as long as they know it's not a reflection on how the person feels about the RP (like if you’re just being sloppy because you don’t care). It's worth noting that usually nobody minds a few typos or bungled sentences, it's only when things get genuinely difficult to read that it usually really becomes an issue. If someone has a hard time reading what you write, they may be less inclined to RP with you. With legibility in mind, let's talk accents. If you want to play a character with an accent, you'll want to adjust your dialog to match the appropriate phonetics of that accent. For example, dwarves generally speak with something akin to a scottish accent, so if you're playing a dwarf, you'll likely want to change the dialog to match that. Keep in mind you should only change the dialog, there's no reason to carry your accents into any emotes or actions you might perform. Furthermore, when you do an accent try to keep a certain level of readability, your accent might be spot on with more letter substitutions and clipped gerunds but there's a certain point where everyone around you is scratching their heads on what you could possibly be saying. It's hard to RP with someone if you can't understand anything they're saying! To use an example, in the movie Brave the main character says: "Mom, it's just my bow" which would be totally acceptable, but perhaps feels a little bland to you, so you could write "Maaaaauhm, eet's joos' meh boooo" which is still technically the same sentence, if a bit hard to parse, so maybe something closer to "Mum, it's jus' me bow" which more or less gets across that the character is speaking with this accent without making it overtly hard to read, about average between the two earlier ones Where you want to fall on the scale of no accent to heavy accent in your writing is entirely on you and your preferences there's no 'correct' way to write accents, but do try and keep in mind that someone else has to read that accent and hopefully understand it. Again, OOC vs IC, its possible for a character to not understand an accent, but in general you want the player to be able to understand it. ROLEPLAY “RULES” - BASIC RP ETIQUETTE Before I get into the “rules” of RP, I want to sort of put forth a disclaimer - people don’t always follow these, and some of these aren’t things I would personally necessarily call “bad” in an RP; this isn’t any kind of callout and if you do these things I’m not looking to make you feel bad about it. This is mostly “people may find this rude, so don’t be surprised if doing these things ruffles someone’s feathers or gets you in trouble with your guild.” Most of these rules exist to prevent RP dissonance, because causing too much of it may make people hesitant to RP with you. Different RP for Different Groups A very important thing keep in mind is to be aware of the group you find yourself RPing in; this could be a guild, a server community, a massive cross-realm WoW group or just a handful of friends. What your RP looks like in the context of these different spaces can be wildly disparate. The power-level of characters can swing pretty heavily from group to group, how fast and loose with the lore you are, character interactions with major lore figures, etc. Generally speaking, the more people in the group you’re RPing with, the more restrictive and close to the etiquette rules listed here you’re going to be expected to play. When you’re just writing a RP with one friend that isn’t considered canon in a larger RP sphere, anything you agree on goes; but if you’re in a guild with a bunch of people whose stories and characters are affected by your RP they’re going to frown pretty heavily on you bringing in that much RP dissonance. If you’re ever not sure what your groups feelings on something are, just ask OOC first! Interacting Directly with Major Lore Objects/Characters and Why You Shouldn’t Most of the time, interacting with major lore characters/objects/events in the game in a large and personal way is discouraged. This is to avoid the RP dissonance of say, you walking up to me in an RP and telling me how you slew Gul’dan with your own two hands and I’m like “but I slew Gul’dan with my own two hands!” Obviously, that would be a pretty big problem to try and RP around (we can’t both have strangled Gul’dan to death without having at least met doing it). It would usually be considered acceptable to say that you were part of a large team that assisted in the efforts to defeat him--but the actual kill is generally attributed to some nameless generic hero possessed by no PC. This goes for slaying major lore characters, dating major lore characters, possessing important one of a kind artifacts, even in some circles interacting with major lore characters in any way. Obviously this means that what you play through the game is not a direct translation of what your character does. When you play through the quests in game, you’re treated as the one true hero of azeroth--but in an RP setting, you need more room for the other players to be just as important as you are. Additionally, often just saying your character is in direct contact with a major lore character can cause RP dissonance. If I walk into an RP and say “King Anduin directly ordered me to burn down this Horde orphanage and kill a bunch of orphans because he just hates orphans so much” I’m sort of putting a bunch of lore and words in Anduin’s mouth that I have no right to. Most people would probably be furious at the idea that I’m establishing a canon where Anduin hates orphans and wants them dead. Anduin hating orphans is an extreme example, but any time you as a player are putting words into a game character’s mouth, it’s likely that you’ll encounter resistance. This is avoided by just never having PCs interact directly with any sort of major lore characters. Again, how acceptable this is and what is acceptable varies by your RP group, but usually minor NPCs in the WoW are considered fair game (having heard something from a barkeep in a small town, for example). A word of caution however: Blizzard may decide to do things you don’t expect with the NPCs you tie your characters to, and dealing with that can be difficult and radically change your character. Take it from someone who made their character from the Cliffwalker tribe before playing through the Cataclysm Stonetalon storyline: your entire family may wind up dead. Lore Nobody expects you to know everything, especially right away, but you should try to stay as within the lore of the game as much as you can. Lore is primarily important because it sort of greases the wheels of RP. If you and the person you’re RPing with aren’t operating with the same rules of how the world works in mind, it’s going to cause RP dissonance. Most people won’t mind if you don’t know things, but what’s important is that you try and that you’re open to people politely correcting you. I’m never going to be upset with someone who doesn’t know everything (goodness knows I don’t, despite how many years I’ve been playing) but I will be hesitant to RP with someone who gets angry or upset when they’re told the lore is different from what they thought, or can’t at least have rational discussion about it. Powerlevel Powerlevel is definitely something you should try and be very aware of from group to group. Every established RP group is likely also going to have a sort of understood powerlevel, sometimes your characters are expected to only be as powerful as the local city guard, other times they’re powerful saviors of the universe, and getting to know which one you are in is very important. As much fun as it might seem, generally being more powerful than all the PCs you’re interacting with (powergaming) is going to turn people off from RPing with you. As an example, in my guild we have a decently high power-level, where together a number of the PCs took down a corrupted wild god at one point. But, a smaller facet of the guild was a tribe of Tauren I was a part of--and for a bit we avoided bringing any of our more powerful magical friends to our village because we wanted to explore some stories at a lower power-level. It’s hard to play out the struggles of getting fresh water to irrigate crops if a shaman or a mage can just snap their fingers and fix the problems, rendering the story over. In the same vein, choosing what race your character is can be dependant on powerlevel. All playable races are of course, fair game. But, if you want to play something that isn’t a playable race, you’re generally going to need to make sure they’re on the same powerlevel as the playable races. If someone walks up in RP as a Taunka very few people will balk at that, and even very few would have a problem with something a little more off-brand like an Arrakoa or a Jinyu. The problem generally arises when someone is playing a race that’s implied to be much more powerful than the others. For example, if you’re a Naaru in disguise, people might not be keen on RPing with you. One of the most common examples of this is people playing dragons: some communities take huge issue with people playing dragons but others are ok with it--if you are thinking about playing one make sure you ask around your RP community first to see how they view these things. Godmodding As defined in the glossary, godmodding is the act of controlling a character that belongs to another player and is heavily frowned on. The easiest to understand and most common place this comes up is in combat situations. For example, if my character is Arahe and the person I’m RPing with has a character named Gahnder, it would be godmodding if I wrote a post that was “Arahe cuts off Gahnder’s arm with her glaive,” instead, I would want to write a post that only involves my own character’s actions and reactions. “Arahe swings her glaive at Gahnder’s arm” would be the proper way to phrase the post, because Gahnder can decide how much damage, if any, his arm receives. MetaGaming Another thing I want to cover is meta-gaming, which is keeping IC and OOC knowledge separate. I already went into OOC vs IC a bit earlier, but I want to run through it in the context of meta-gaming. It’s important to limit your character’s knowledge to just what they would actually know, even if you as a player know more than them. For example, you as a player might know that your sneaky rogue friend is creeping up behind your character unseen, but your character might not be aware and get surprised! Or, you might know from an OOC perspective that another character is alive after an attack, but your character is still in the dark. This is most frustrating when used directly against another PC; it can make it hard to react to things, but also break down trust between players and cause hesitance in revealing ‘too much’ of things that should be discussed ahead of time because the meta-gamer might ruin them. It is also generally frowned upon when it comes to lore from the game. If in a cutscene/book/etc Genn Greymane whispers in Anduin’s ear some sort of secret and nobody else is around to hear it, your character probably doesn’t know that secret and it would be strange to go around telling other people about it--or worse, expecting them to know about it. Post Etiquette and Turn Order When RPing, always try to communicate one post at a time that contains a full action/piece of dialong without constantly adding additional lines and wait for the person/people you’re RPing with to respond before adding more. This is especially important ingame or in places where you can’t see if the other person is typing. If you’re writing a longer post and you don’t have an addon which allows you to type it out at once, include an ellipsis at the end (...) to let the other person know that you’re not done with your post yet. It can be extremely difficult to respond to someone who is constantly adding more to their post in seperate lines because you might start typing out a response and then have to change it with each following line, or you might not know when they’re finished and you should post. Always try to let everyone else respond to each piece of information before continuing, unless they’ve said it’s ok to skip them OOC. For example: Don’t: Player A: “Hello!” Player A: “How are you?” Player A: “I just got back from the front.” Player A: Character A reaches out to pat Character B’s pet on the head. Player A: “Our mutual friend got injured in last week’s attack.” Player B: “Hello. I’m well, how are you? Are they ok?” In this instance, Player B probably has to rewrite their post several times to react to each new input, taking them even longer to post and likely getting frustrated in the process, and may just sit and wait after the last line, wondering if Player A is ready for a response yet. Do: Player A: “Hello! How are you?” Player B: “Hello. I’m well, how are you?” Player A: “I just got back from the front.” Character A reaches out to pat Character B’s pet on the head. “Our mutual friend got injured in last week’s attack. I went to go visit them and spoke with them at some length. We discussed…” Player A: “some plans that I think would interest you.” Player B: Character B’s pet makes a happy noise at the head pats. “Oh? Are they alright? What sort of plans?” Here, Player A gives Player B a chance to respond to more reasonable chunks of information and the flow of conversation feels a bit better. It might even stand to be a little more broken up. Player A is also keeping it clear where the posts end, so Player B knows when to respond. Entering a Scene in Progress If you see a pair of people already engaged in an RP, it's totally possible to join in! If it's ingame in a public space like a tavern or at an RP event, usually you're good to just walk up and join them. The same is true for forum or discord RP which has been denoted as "open rp." The rest of the time, however, it's polite to whisper or ask in an OOC chat if it's ok to join the scene. It can throw people off if they're engaged in a serious story-line conversation if you just jump right in, but most of the time people will be open and happy to include you if you ask! Basic Ingame Manners Generally, when you're RPing ingame, you'll want to toggle on walk instead of run (the default keybind is / on the numpad). Often people will identify that you're IC and entering a scene when you're walking. If you don't have a RP Profile Addon, this is an easy way for people to know that you're an RPer! Avoid excessive use of moves/running around in circles/toys just because you're bored between posts. If your character is jumping up and down on the table IC that's fine, but keep in mind that your character's movements and actions while in an RP scene are considered IC and people will react to that, and may find too much activity annoying or distracting in both an OOC and IC sense. To Quickly Summarize RP Etiquette: You only control your character, never control or directly affect someone else’s PC without their explicit OOC permission. Your character does not experience everything you play through in the game, and you should avoid direct contact with important lore figures and objects. Try to keep lore in mind and be open to discussions about lore and how it pertains to your characters. Keep your character’s power level roughly on par with whoever you’re RPing with. OOC knowledge should be kept separate from your character’s IC knowledge. Construct your posts in a way that makes them clear and easy for your RP partner to respond to. And again, all of these guidelines are just that, they are not necessarily a direct reflection on my own personal RP views, and they are subject to change a bit from RP community to RP community. They are just to let you know what may be frowned upon in whatever community you may find yourself in. Make sure you keep clear and open OOC communication with your community to find out what’s acceptable! Combat In RP, combat can be handled in a few different ways. The most common are dice rolls, duels and RP combat. Dice Combat: Usually used if you don’t really know/trust your opponent and you want to guarantee a fair fight. Usually it’s as simple as both players rolling a die and whoever rolls higher succeeds. This can either be a single roll that determines the winner of the fight, or multiple rolls that determine each move and how successful they are. Sometimes people will just roll a die on their own and sort of arbitrarily determine how successful they are at moves/attacks/avoidances/etc by how high or low they roll. Duel Combat: this combat is simply fighting someone PvP ingame in a duel to determine who canonically wins a fight ICly RP Combat: Here, you just write out your moves/reactions to your opponents moves at eachother, my earlier example of godmodding is an example of a possible RP combat post. If you do this form of combat, it's polite to at least take minor hits sometimes. It can be very boring if two characters are just dodging every single move the other throws out, and frustrating if players are taking down a difficult NPC monster a GM is running without taking any hits. The GM won’t godmod you into being injured, but they might be less inclined to run things for you if you breeze through their final boss without a scratch. WoW ADDONS Most addons for WoW can be downloaded and managed very easily through the twitch app (what was once the curse app). Generally just search the names in the twitch app to find them. I will try to update these as needed. If you have suggestions for other RP addons, please leave a comment and I’ll add them. I highly recommend picking up at least one of the profile addons, just because it makes it immediately apparent to others that you’re also an RPer. Total Roleplay 3 (By EllypseCelweBelore) - A profile RP addon (will not work with XRP or MyRoleplay also installed, but will communicate with them so you’ll see profiles from them as well. Basically you have to pick one of the three of these.) that lets you make custom profiles for your characters/pets/mounts/etc, find other RPers on the map, spot other RPers at a glance, and make chat customizations. You can also change your character’s name and give yourself a last name. The extended version also includes the ability to make documents, quests and a whole bunch of other complicated and fun stuff. It’s worth noting that all RP profile addons can be reported to and moderated by blizzard, so don’t put anything in them that would get you in trouble if you said it in /say! MyRoleplay (by Etarna, KatorieHooves, TheGildedFox and EllypseCelweBelore) - A profile RP addon (will not work with XRP or TRP also installed, but will communicate with them so you’ll see profiles from them as well. Basically you have to pick one of the three of these.) that lets you make custom profiles for your characters, spot other RPers at a glance, change your character’s name and give yourself a last name and give people other information. It’s a bit more lightweight and easy to use than the other ones. It’s worth noting that all RP profile addons can be reported to and moderated by blizzard, so don’t put anything in them that would get you in trouble if you said it in /say! XRP (by BorBlasthammer) - A profile RP addon (will not work with MyRoleplay or TRP also installed, but will communicate with them so you’ll see profiles from them as well. Basically you have to pick one of the three of these.) that lets you make custom profiles for your characters, spot other RPers at a glance, change your character’s name and give yourself a last name and give people other information. Supports more cross-faction and cross-server functionality than the others (and is a little more experimental in that sense). It’s worth noting that all RP profile addons can be reported to and moderated by blizzard, so don’t put anything in them that would get you in trouble if you said it in /say! Elephant (by pb_ee1) - A super handy little addon that’s useful in many situations, but is particularly good for RPers. Simply logs the chat so that you can go back and read/copy/keep it for later. Can be filtered by chat. After you finish a scene you can easily go back into this addon and keep it for later, or look back to reference something that happened earlier in a scene that wouldn’t still be tracked by WoW’s normal chatlog UnlimitedChatMessage (by Cyprias) - If you find yourself hitting the 255 character limit in WoW’s chatbox often and are annoyed by putting ellipsis on the ends of your posts to continue typing, I highly recommend this little addon. All it does is let you type endlessly and then breaks it up into the acceptable 255 blocks for you and posts them all at once when you hit enter. HandyNotes (by Xinhuan) - probably less vital than the other addons, this is still one of my favorite addons. Lets you mark custom locations on the map. I use it constantly when I find neat little RP spots that I want to come back to so I can find them again. TinyPad (by Gello) - a helpful little addon that gives you an ingame notepad to make notes for yourself on ADDITIONAL RESOURCES Discord - is a free voice and text chat for gamers, a great deal of RPers use it pretty extensively. Below, I’ll list a few servers for RPers on Discord, please let me know if you know of more to add! TNRH Community Hub - The discord server for the TNRH RP Community Roleplayers Connect - A cross realm RP community Nobbel - Warcraft Lore server - discord for hardcore lore discussions Lore of Warcraft - WoW - another lore discussion discord for WoW Blood and Iron - Orc RP/Lore centric discord The Shal'dorei - Nightborne RP/Lore centric discord Silvermoon City - Bloodelf RP/Lore centric discord The Goblin Coliseum - Goblin RP/Lore centric discord The Bluffs - Tauren RP/Lore centric discord The Ebon Hold - Deathknight RP/Lore centric discord Official TNRH RP Ingame communities: Horde: https://www.worldofwarcraft.com/invite/D2lm9DnuOwz?region=US&faction=Horde Alliance: https://www.worldofwarcraft.com/invite/owrxLOVseKr?region=US&amp;faction=Alliance Other: https://rpfind.me/ - an RP website with some great features for finding friends and connections If you have any questions/need additional help please feel free to contact me (add me to your friends list/shoot me a mail or whisper), Arahe-Ravenholdt. My discord is Arahe#6448, feel free to add me! Or just add a comment on this post.
  39. 1 point
    ((Open to all members of The Grim and Twilight Empire. Reply here or ask any member for an invite to the Discord server.)) During the events of the battle at Lordaeron..... The sounds of battle were a neverending background noise. The Grim fought alongside the Horde in the ruins as the Alliance pressed them back with soldiers and machinery. They heard Baine call for the retreat, and reluctantly fell back with the rest of the Horde. Much of the Horde scattered then, and The Grim grouped up among themselves. Brill was scorched by now, decimated by the attack. But The Grim's guildhall was mostly underground. Breaking off from the main force, those in the familiar black and red tabards headed toward Brill. August 12, 2018 KatelleLast Sunday at 4:21 PM The stench of blood and death hung heavy in the air, but still the Alliance pressed on. Ragged cheers went up at Baine's call for retreat. The Empire stood with the Alliance, blue and gold tabards covered in gore but nonetheless brilliant in spirit, her forces rallied by the shouts of one of her warriors. They pressed forward with the other forces, both soldiers and adventurers alike, even as the Horde turned tail and retreated. ZakarnasLast Sunday at 4:21 PM As the Horde began to flee, Zakarnas stopped and stood still to breathe for what felt like the first time. He lowered his daggers and let his shoulders drop with his exhalation. Amber eyes scanned the ruins, analyzing comrade and foe alike. Out of the corner of his field of vision, he noticed a fairly large group routed away from the primary Horde army. Was that...? He was certain that it was. He stepped back a few feet and gently nudged Katelle with his elbow. He subtly inclined his head towards the group of The Grim. MyakaLast Sunday at 7:06 PM Myaka let out a roaring cheer as the horde began to retreat. Her draenic sword was painted in a black mixure of blood and ichor. The purple Shadowflame of the Twilight Scales glowed in the flickering soot and ashes. She raised the shield aloft for a moment and it disappeared in a flash of fire. She took the pause to catch her breath a moment. LeslieLast Sunday at 7:20 PM Leslie finds it difficult to restrain herself when the elf she's fighting turns tail to dash away at the sound of the retreat, but she does. Mya's cheer from nearby brings her out of the moment. With her broadsword still held up in guard, she moves towards the others with a careful eye on the horde falling back. QabianLast Sunday at 7:21 PM Qabian followed close behind the other Grim. He was not naturally a leader and always gravitated toward the back of the pack. In combat, he was at best a decently thoughtful contributor to controlled chaos. At worst, he was a deserter, never in terms of abandoning the fight, but with a taste for indiscriminate harm and property damage that was unlikely to be particularly helpful to anyone on any side. The longer the battle went on, the more he felt inclined to the latter, and he did not like being ordered to retreat. Vindicator JaelantiaLast Sunday at 7:31 PM Jaelantia watched the routed forces of the Horde pulling away, clutching her warhammer as adrenaline still ran through her body. She sighed, and let her muscles slowly relax as she focused her attention instead on tending to the wounded - before some new surprise could appear. UmbralheartLast Sunday at 8:03 PM The call for retreat rang out in her dense skull, the sound of the order hurt her ears worse than fingernails being pulled from her hands. Umbral has seen what happens to people slow to retreat, her days as a youth watching South Shore and Tarren Mill flop back and fourth endlessly were not for loss. Through the chaos and broken ranks Umbral sped through the mayhem, dancing over the dead and leaping off those too slow to keep up, eventually making her way back to the pack of Grim she had gotten seperated from. With her shield ready and her fel green elf eyes scanning in all directions Umbral did what she hated most, retreated.(edited) Arthelle SunstrikeLast Sunday at 8:26 PM As the cheers rang out, the Void Elf relaxed. Fire still burned at her fingertips, but it quickly faded into smoke, and then nothing. Breathing heavily, she lifted a glove up to her lips and coughed twice. "Not the best of signs," murmured Arthelle to herself before putting her back to a pillar and sliding down until she was seated while clutching her sides. "Yep. Definitely made it worse with the blight and, uh, activity." KatelleLast Sunday at 8:40 PM The Imperial General turned to her Colonel at the nudge, following his gaze. Icy eyes, just visible through the visor slit in her molded leather helm, narrowed at the sight of red and black tabards on the move. She growls a wordless oath and vanishes from sight, trusting her second to follow suit. Her voice rang out over the Imperial guildstone, then, unheard by all except those who carried their own: "Empire! Grim spotted moving away from Horde forces! I want them mowed down!" MyakaLast Sunday at 8:41 PM Myaka turns at Kate's call, seeing the Grim retreating. A wide half mad grin splits her face and she starts moving, her run turning into a blistering run of a charge as battlerage roared through her. "Understood General, I'm on my way." LeslieLast Sunday at 8:43 PM Leslie turns the instant she hears the command and follows right after Myaka as she passes. Arthelle SunstrikeLast Sunday at 8:45 PM Upon hearing Kate call for some heads, Arthelle grinned through the pain. She forced herself off her rear and onto her feet once more, only to cast a quick molten barrier around herself. Walking at a brisk pace while holding her stomach, she prepared another fire spell in her right hand. "Well, this is a rare day indeed." AwatuLast Sunday at 11:02 PM The appearance of Jaina Proudmoore had certainly shifted the favor of battle out of the Horde's hands. Why the Warchief had not issued flanking positions or improved magical defenses was beyond Awatu. But, no time for such thoughts now. Brill was utterly destroyed, and the first layer of defenses for the Halls had been broken. Immediate defense of the catacombs was necessary, regardless of the Horde's grasp on Lordaeron. If wisdom is applied to battle tactics, the troops can remain in Undercity for months while under siege. The Commander rushed across the edge of the battlefield, a cadre of Grim behind him following his orders to fall back to the Halls. He retrieved a hearthstone from a pouch and spoke into it, speaking an order to all Grim. "All Grim, both in the field and in battle, must fall back to the Halls underneath the Gallow's End Tavern. Brill is no more and defense of the Halls is of the utmost priority. All must follow this order, no exceptions." An unspoken thought goes through his mind. "Should I see any who fail to follow this order... they will be made examples of... most harshly..." IvanLast Sunday at 11:33 PM Sky Captain Ivan Starlance, shining son of the Alliance, righteous Knight of the Silver Hand, esteemed heir of General Josef Starlance, and hero, of course, rides atop his armoured warhose Justice through the fray of battle. He could barely hear Lady Larmont's call to arms over the clash of steel, but he knows the order she rallies against. The Grim, one of the most heinous blights following the orders of the Banshee Queen. He knows them well enough through reputation to judge their destruction here more than necessary. "For the Light! For the Alliance!" He lifts his warhammer to the sky so that it may be ignited with the vindicating flames of the Light and charges towards the retreating black and red tabards. August 13, 2018 AderleeLast Monday at 1:36 AM The commander’s words were clear in Aderlee’s head, … defense of the Halls is of the utmost priority. Well that wasn’t Aderlee’s priority, his was to ensure the full and complete destruction of his laboratory lest it fall in the hands of the Alliance. With the sudden appearance of the Alliance and the need to defend Undercity left Aderlee little time to arm his demolition charges. He would have liked to double and triple check his work, but there was no time. His explosives rarely malfunctioned, but he would not be satisfied unless he activated the charges manually or saw them detonate from a distance and hopefully destroy Alliance soldiers in the process. No, all Grim are needed to defend the Halls and Aderlee would follow his family and defend the Halls. The laboratory was located within eyeshot of Brill and the entrance to the Halls, if happenchance allowed he would complete his demolition. For the retreat, Aderlee ran among the rear of the pack waving his staff from side to side and occasionally hopping from one foot every few steps. His magic would reinvigorate any tired Grim and urge them to retreat with greater haste. Vindicator JaelantiaLast Monday at 10:13 AM Jaelantia silently stood, eyes scanning the crowd for the familiar tabard of the Empire. Once she'd caught a glimpse of the twin lions, she swiftly made her way in their direction. Her hooves clattered against stone as her pace quickened and her grip tightened around her warhammer. There was more to be done. SyreennaLast Monday at 11:09 AM After hearing Awatu's orders, Syreena finishes off an Alliance soldier she was engaged with, and turns to retreat to the guild hall. Her glowing yellow gaze sweeps the field near her on her way, waving at any other Grim she sees to follow her. Jinka, an orc hunter, moves with the little rogue, a red wolf running at her side. GavrilLast Monday at 12:18 PM As he hears Awatu's command for retreat, Gavril casually looks on as his felhound tears out the throat of a fallen Alliance soldier, finishing them off. The death knight Kvetoslava similarly executes a night elven archer on their knees. Both Forsaken narrow their eyes, catching Syreena running by, and similarly follow suit. Gavril was loathe to retreat, but fully understand the tactical necessity -- the Alliance had the advantage in the open field. They would be hard pressed to assault the Halls. Gavril pats his belt down to check his few remaining canisters of Blight, regrouping with the rest of the Grim. KatelleLast Monday at 2:24 PM Katelle trusted her Imperials to move without physically needing her to lead them. She stayed in the shadows, adrenaline lending a sprinting speed to her limbs that almost enabled her to keep up with Myaka's surging charge. Even still, the Grim had the advantage of distance by the time she had given the call. Would they be fast enough to catch their red-black prey? "Follow them!" Katelle commanded, voice like steel across the guildstone but unheard in physical space. "Whatever you do, don't let them disappear from view!"(edited) LeslieLast Monday at 2:36 PM Leslie needs no more prodding into chasing after the fleeing Horde as quickly as she can, so the beast charges forward after them without another word or thought. If nothing else, she will use her speed as an advantage to keep eyes on them. MyakaLast Monday at 2:45 PM Myaka also keeps up her fast pace, letting battlerage fuel her. She avoids things in the way by making large leaps over downed branches and debris. Vindicator JaelantiaLast Monday at 3:37 PM The paladin's stoic march towards the fleeing horde stopped. Instead, Jaelantia broke into a determined run, sprinting after her quarry with her hammer held low and ready for the first swing. Her plate clattered heavily with each stomp of her hooves, and she bore down in the direction of the red-and-black, advancing like a furious elekk. Her eyes, bright and golden, were fixed forward in a dutiful stare. She would not lose them. Her purpose was to crush them all. UmbralheartLast Monday at 4:01 PM Umbral took a quick look through the fog of war and made sure every Grim within view was close enough to protect should the need arise. In the spur of the moment as the crowd of Grim neared their rally point Umbral sees an alliance soldier, bleeding to death trying to keep his insides from becoming outsides and using a polearm as a cane to limp to safety, she takes a skip with one step then a hop with another landing on the limping soldier like a child jumping into a puddle sending a shower of viscera out in all directions from her impact crater. She steadies herself with the polearm stuck in the ground the soldier was trying to pull himself along with and decides to take it hoping to gain an advantage in the corridors of the guildhall if the fighting makes its way in there. As the red tide settles around her an insane laughter echoes out from under her helmet. "Fitting the Empire chooses to fight today or all days!"(edited) QabianLast Monday at 4:04 PM Qabian pauses and turns, a couple other nameless Grim knocking past his shoulder as they run. He lifts his hand, two fingers up and gestures at the husk of a ruined siege engine some distance behind them. Its already smoldering form bursts into fresh flames as he stands and raises his other arm to match it. The spellwork seems useless on first glance, then a meteor forms out of the sky, and crashes into the pile of charred and broken beams at a low angle, scattering flames and debris in a blazing river of fire across a good portion of the path they had already covered. The blood elf purses his lips, satisfied with his work, then blinks back into line with the company, keeping pace just ahead of Aderlee. If you're going to be bringing up the rear, better to know where the nearest healer is. Vindicator JaelantiaLast Monday at 4:11 PM Jaelantia's singular objective was not changed by the sudden explosion of a seige engine. From out of the flame and splintering debris, she emerged, barely losing a stride. Though the holy protection of the Light wreathed her entire form, the flames still licked at her and surrounded her body bas she passed through, making her seem briefly akin to a fireball barreling towards them. When she was finally free of the fire, her silhouette against the wall of flame was only illuminated by the intense glow of her eyes, glaring furiously from beneath her helm. MyakaLast Monday at 4:23 PM Myaka also doesn't break her stride, taking a running leap through the flames. Fire licks at her enchanted armor but the warrior seems to just ignore it as she continues towards the grim. KatelleLast Monday at 4:42 PM An otherworldly, animalistic shriek could be heard through the clamor of combat. Charging through the masses of soldiers enemy and friend alike, a skeletal warhorse--glowing with the violet energies of the Twisting Nether--broke through the raging fire as it sped ahead of the Imperials. Its rider, a cowled woman whose robes glowed smoke-like wisps of Fel and Nether alike, didn't allow her mount to charge too far ahead. She slowed just as she came in range to shout foul curses in Eredun at whichever Grim targets were near her, voice echoing like a banshee screech as her agonies and afflictions sped through the air. Would they hit? QabianLast Monday at 5:19 PM At least one of the dark streaks of violet-black the fel woman threw slammed across Qabian's right side, the force of the spell enough to send him tumbling head over heels, but running was a skill Qabian had practiced a great deal, and he rolled with the strike. With another shimmering blink across the field, he was on his feet with more people between him and the direction the spell had come from. A bubble of translucent defensive magic popped into place as well. The blood elf looked down and saw slick shadow wrapping around his elbow, crawling up and down his arm menacingly. He hissed between his teeth, and brought his hand to his pauldron, unstrapping it as he ran and letting it fall, the distraction causing him to stumble over debris. With his opposite hand at his shoulder and the sound of a couple clicks, the prosthesis disengaged and he tugged his tightly bandaged arm out of its sleeve completely. He looked around, desperation rising behind his eyes. He needed to get out of the open. AwatuLast Monday at 5:30 PM The ruins of Brill came into view, and the pile of rubble that was once the Gallow's End Tavern smoldered much like the rest of the pitiful town. Holding his shield high, a few spells struck the barrier and were deflected away by Awatu's own divine magics. A quick glance around the battlefield showed what he had feared: the Horde was being routed and no reinforcements would be able to reclaim Brill or Tirisfal Glades. Furthermore, a contingent of Alliance were following them, and more would soon come. The Alliance forces had all the time necessary to set up their siege, and it would be only a matter of time before the main entrance of the guild hall was surrounded. The second layer of wards were holding, for now, but only enough to buy time before soldiers could rush the garrison. He stood near the pile of rubble, turned, and planted himself between the entrance and any oncoming attackers. A quick spell snap, and a banner bearing the cloaked skull and twin daggers of The Grim was planted into the ground. There was no hiding it anymore. Any Alliance seeking to get close to the entrance would have to deal with over one ton of furious Tauren. Another order rang out over the hearhtstone. "Defensive posititions! Rally to me! Those who can clear the rubble, do so. We need to gain entry to the Halls." AureilyaLast Monday at 5:39 PM Aureilya's voice came over the hearthstone. "I have barricaded and secured our archives and will be sending them through a portal to a safe location. I will hold the Library for as long as I can and will self evacuate by portal. Qabian, can you arrange for an emergency portal for the rest of you should it become necessary?" QabianLast Monday at 5:55 PM Qabian slid behind a wall of stones that might have once been a building's foundation near Awatu, scattering dirt as he half-sat, half-crouched. He tried to work magic into the false arm as he tossed it onto the ground in front of him, but not having the second hand available for the gestures made it more difficult than it needed to be. The bandages slowly melted away under the effects of the shadowy spell as it dissolved whatever it touched, leaving behind a silver filigree arm-shaped empty mesh that the mage cursed at as he tried to apply fire. "What? Yes, of course! What do you think--" He shouted, then bit his tongue, cutting short his too-loud curt response to the call on the hearthstone as he turned his attention back to trying to cleanse his fake arm.(edited) DuhallenLast Monday at 6:20 PM The Elf was old, it was tall, upon first glance people would figure it to be a nightborn. He was prideful and the affliction he helped level on the lands of Lorderon were attrocious. Sure he had a body guard but as his hand extended. plants died quickly blackened by the influence and might. The alliance soldiers fell to their knees afflicted with the Blight. And when the Bainesidhe queen threw out the blight it just worsened with his very presence there. He wore the colors of the Grim. But every inch of Skin seemed to be covered with the Red and black mix. If one got close to hime they might even see that his very uniform is alive and absorbing magical shots. Hearing the retreat he repeats it to other Horde and Grim members. He knew he needed more to bring to the fore. He was one of the first to retreat, not war minded more tactitian minded. Duhallen slipped back to the choke point getting his demon to cover him. He wasn't really a runner when the Banshee scream came towards them he let out a dark chuckle, speaking in demonic he seemed to slip through the twisting nether the attack passing harmlessly as he ended up past the lines. He focused putting a shield up sliding further back from the ranks as he started to etch on the ground. A portal to bring reinforcements. Murmuring in demonic a purple blighted swirl came across the ground. The portal opened with many shark like teeth. And the tongue came out like it would swallow those that went through it. Then the tongue straightened like a set of stairs.(edited) Vindicator JaelantiaLast Monday at 6:38 PM Making her way across the burning scar through Tirisfal Glades, the draenei finally caught a glimpse of what little remained of Brill. Surely, she thought, that was where her quarry was headed. She grit her teeth and pressed on into the ruins of the town in pursuit, embers still glowing at the edges of her tabard, the symbol of the Hand still visible through a layer of blood and ash and ichor. GavrilLast Monday at 7:50 PM Gavril glances back just in time to see Qabian hit by the Alliance warlock's afflictions, and turns to face her and the Vindicator. Snarling as only a jawless corpse can, the warlock thrusts his skeletal hands violently towards the two oncoming alliance. A violet nova of shadow energy blasts between them -- a Shadowfury meant to stun and slow their advance, giving the other Grim more time to take cover.(edited) Vindicator JaelantiaLast Monday at 8:18 PM Jaelantia felt the brunt force of the warlock's magic strike her. In an instant, the edges of her vision began to blur and she felt every inch of her body throbbing with pain. Her every step felt like a slog through thick mud, her joints screaming at her to stop. Though slowed to an agonized walk, she refused to cease, and pushed her way through the misery of the Shadowfury. Her off-hand clenched and unclenched a few times before pushing through the same blinding pain as the rest of her to lay her palm upon her breast. With a silent prayer, the Light coursed through the draenei's body, and the affliction of the warlock's magic began to abate. After a few seconds, her attention turned towards the direction she had seen Gavril a moment earlier as her eyes returned to focus. Her grip tightening on her hammer, she finally resumed her determined charge. UmbralheartLast Monday at 8:41 PM Through the fire and the chaos Umbral sees Gavril about to unintentionally become several pieces of little Gavril's. With a well trained sprint and little thought for her own safety Umbral's shield and body fall into line obscuring Gavril from view behind its blood splattered bronze finish. She let's out a mighty roar (for an elf) determined to deflect spell, arrow, or hammer while moving backwards forcing the dedder warlock to retreat under her cover. KatelleLast Monday at 9:10 PM Both warlock and her demonic mount were caught by the full brunt of the Shadowfury alongside Jaelantia, though Ketani had not the physical fortitude to slog through it. Beneath her hood, molten-copper eyes squeezed shut against the blinding disorientation caused by so familiar a magic and spell. She clung to her otherworldly steed as her own world spun in pain, an eternity jamming through the few seconds of the nova's duration. Finally, everything righted itself. Ketani straightened, taking a breath to steady herself even as she snapped her steed forward. "Keep an eye on that warlock's portal," she called across the guildstone, eyeing the toothy maw even as she galloped past it.(edited) MyakaLast Monday at 9:11 PM Myaka sees the shadowfury and tries to move to block it, though is to slow to stop it from both Jael or the mysterious warlock. She doesn't know who the new person is, but they are fighting the grim, so they must be good. She charges to intercept Umbral knowing this will start to get her into the grim forces. Vindicator JaelantiaLast Monday at 9:17 PM Seeing Umbral's approach to intervene, and surprised by her speed, Jaelantia changed tactics. As she got in closer, her hammer ready to swing, she began to shimmer, an aura of Light shining around her whole being. The sight of it soon became dazzling and blinding, like staring into the face of the sun. The warrior charging ahead may find that the Light, though visibly bright, would not sting her eyes nearly so much as those of the elf and - should that shield fall - the warlock ahead of her.(edited) UmbralheartLast Monday at 10:10 PM Umbral seethed with anger, blinded by the radiance she staggered back a few steps, shield held with a strong grip but not ready to deflect a direct strike should it find her. After shaking her head, all she could do was hope she was still backing up while she waited for her vision to return and hope her bloody shield, polearm gripped in the middle of it's haft, and muscular elf frame was enough to block the way and buy Gavril a moment of respite if not a window to react. MyakaLast Monday at 10:22 PM Myaka finishes her charge seeing Umbral and Gavril slowed down. She moves to strike at Umbral first while she's disoriented, purple draenic sword cleaving towards her and shadowflame rolling from her shield. AderleeLast Monday at 10:27 PM As the violet-black fel slammed into Qabian, Aderlee ducked beneath another as he continued his retreat. He stutter stepped so he wouldn’t run into the back of Qabian and continued to run. Aderlee reached out with his magic to mend Qabian’s wounds, but couldn’t seem to find any. When Qabian disengaged his prosthetics, Aderlee let loose a loud cackle then spoke between breaths , “Ju learn someting new every day Q, hehe.” Aderlee was thankful for Gavril and Umbral buying them time as the Alliance soldiers converged on them rather than Aderlee and the rear troops. As Aderlee caught up to and passed Umbral and Gavril, he paused to yank a metal fetish off of his robe and throw it at the incoming Alliance with his free hand. He tried to throw it at Myaka as she was charging first, but his aim was off and the fetish sailed over her head as she closed the gap. The fragmentation grenade disguised as a fetish exploded a moment after hitting the ground, sending sharp metallic fragmentation in every direction. Aderlee hoped the grenade would cause the incoming soldiers to pause rather than risk running into another explosion, then turned and continued his retreat towards Awatu. Vindicator JaelantiaLast Monday at 10:35 PM Jaelantia stopped her advance short as the suspicious object bounced off the ground, then braced herself as it exploded. She exhaled sharply through her teeth as bits of shrapnel pelted her armor, some burying themselves deep enough to cause pain. She didn't wait for the pain to subside, hoping the effect of the sunburst of her aura of Light would give her enough time to close in even after the explosion. Dust and smoke still in the air, she lunged forward, swinging her hammer in a wide arc with both arms - hoping the elf was still where she'd been a moment ago. UmbralheartLast Monday at 11:42 PM Umbral's vision comes back into focus as the sharp slice of Myaka's purple draenic sword glances off her shield and finds flesh on her bicep. She lets out a howl in response to the pain that focuses her senses as her rage peaks ever higher. Rather than deflect with her shield, Umbral attempts to deliver the slab of gore covered metal straight to the face of the charging paladin in an effort to deliver a humiliating blow what would leave the crusader covered in someone elses blood and hopefully slow her dance of death to a mere two step of torture. Opting for offensive humiliation comes not without consequence as the hammer of the crusader strikes Umbral in one of the few places on her body not clad in armor, somehow Umbral has managed to take a large hammer blow to the buttock as she positioned to crash into the paladin coming at her... Syreena could NOT find out about this though the bruise would likely stick around for months... if Umbral survived at all. DuhallenLast Monday at 11:43 PM *The portal was up Duhalken felt the protection of the elf he blocked to portal so the alliance would not blast the reinforcements coming. The red river elf then started chanting and lifting his hands purple black ooze came forth with a feel akin to the scourge. * GavrilLast Monday at 11:51 PM Unfortunately, Umbral is neither large nor well-dressed enough to shield the warlock from the paladin's blast of Light. Gavril collapses to one knee, the Light rendering him temporarily blind, searing his undead flesh and sending white-hot pain throughout his body. He extends a free claw towards the Alliance as they engage Umbral, wildly sending curses of Agony and Corruption, praying to the Dark Lady that -- between his spells and Aderlee's grenade -- Umbral is able to hold off the two of them. August 14, 2018 QabianYesterday at 12:09 AM Qabian tossed Aderlee a smirk. The blood elf managed to get his magic working enough to burn away the shadows surrounding the false arm, leaving the silver filigree glowing molten. He burned away the rest of the empty sleeve as well. There just wasn't any time to try and put everything back together. Apparently undeterred by the red hot metal where he grabbed the arm, he snapped the limb back onto the corresponding silver cap on his now bared stump of a shoulder, and there was a flash of white-purple light as trails of floating runes surrounded the arm then dissipated. The metal arm shape was empty at its center, a twisting band of arcane white light through its core apparently what drove its function. He flexed his hands, one still gloved, the other one clearly artificial but moving as though it were entirely natural. He clapped them together once, then hopped over the wall to take a place behind Awatu, alongside the banner, playing defense as ordered. MyakaYesterday at 12:11 AM Myaka snarled lowly, and moved to block umbrals strike with her shield before stabbing her blade towards the other warrior. Vindicator JaelantiaYesterday at 12:16 AM Jaelantia barely escapes taking Umbral's shield to the face as her hammer strike brings her in range. She shoots Myaka a grateful look from beneath the visor of her helm once she recovers after the follow-through of her swing, and is suddenly wrought with an incredible agony. Her flesh begins to blister and steam as the Curse of Agony takes hold, and her gaze snaps to Gavril. She extends a gauntlet covered palm to the warlock as her flesh sizzles and her teeth grind. "I have come to destroy you," she says plainly, before forcing the Light to flow through her agonized fingertips,. She struggled against the pain as she loosed a shocking burst of holy magic, seeking to sear the kneeling undead.(edited) PincusYesterday at 12:17 AM The portal undulates and contorts oddly, seemingly unwilling to let whatever coming through pass. Out from the inky black hole steps a rather large Forsaken, nearly 6 feet tall, and besides him his large felhound. He is dressed in purple, skulls on his shoulders, and face hidden in the cowl with nothing but red eyes peering out. The figure points in the general direction of the melee, and the fel runs off to do his master's bidding. The figure eyes the battlefield, and let's out a sharp whistle. The felhunter runs back to his side. The Forsaken raises his hand, clenches a fist, and flings it downward in a sharp motion. A meteoric rock hurls forth from the Nether, and blossoms into a giant Infernal in the middle of the scrum. GavrilYesterday at 12:46 AM The bolt of Light strikes Gavril square in the chest, sending him sprawling on his back, heavy silken and velvet robes crumpled around him, steam rising from a gaping hole in his chest as a spectral howl escapes his throat. Then, the Infernal falls. Somewhat regaining his composure, the Forsaken retorts in stilted Common, "You must needs destroy that one, first." And then to Umbral, "Warbringer! To the Commander!" Using the ensuing chaos to his advantage, Gavril forces himself to his feet, claw to the wound in his chest, scrambling back towards Awatu and the cover of the ruins of Brill. Le'saraYesterday at 12:51 AM A blast of fire shoots through Duhallen's portal, and out steps Le'sara Sunspear, wreathed in a shroud of flame. "Time to burn some wretched Alliance mongrel bastards!" UmbralheartYesterday at 1:04 AM Umbral impacts her shield with Myaka's and recoils with a cackling twisted glee as the human shield sends Umbral back a step. Umbral takes another strong stomp and her sabaton slams into the ground with enough impact to make those around take note as well as kick up more blood shed from the fallen victims near by hoping to at least create enough horror and outrage to buy enough time for Gavril to escape unmolested by the light. As her foot meets the viscera covered mud and blood flies into the air, her shield falls into place in front of her and with unwavering strength and renewed resilience she quickly regains her balance and back pedals towards Awatu almost as fast as Gavril can run forward. In the months since Umbral pledged herself to the Mandate, she's become strong with the Grim at her back, and resilient standing behind the Grim. DuhallenYesterday at 2:16 AM *The chanting stopped from behind away. A cold wind came forth as the warlock reached a bit too much. He used to not need to breath. He clutched his chest as he summoned the scourge magics no longer infused with relish kings power in full. The cold wind of the north swept across the battlefield and a sickness settled into the blighted soil. The dead that lay on the battlefield start to come alive. They look like they have no light to their eyes and only hunger for flesh. The more alive the better. Duhallen wheezed for breath as life and death conflicted in him. Distracted for long moments after the spell was complete. *(edited) SyreennaYesterday at 10:03 AM Syreenna appears from the shadows at Awatu’s side, surveying the oncoming Alliance and those ho were already engaged in battle with Grim. She recognized a few, and she recognized their tabard. “Twilight Empire. Old friends of mine,” she says to Awatu with a wicked grin. Drawing her swords, she heads into the skirmish, fading into the shadows once more. MyakaYesterday at 10:10 AM Myaka is used to those slamming foot stomps, she does something similar to off foot people as well on occasion. The viscera kicked into the air doesn't seem to unnerve her, neither does the raised bodies. Instead, fury and rage grows, the flames on the shield whip into a frenzy that she sends towards Umbral in a plume of shadowflame. Followed soon after is quick sword stabs and strikes. AderleeYesterday at 12:09 PM Finally reaching Awatu, Aderlee took a moment to catch his breath while muttering “Ah’m gettin’ too old fa’ lotsa runnin’ like dat.” He turned and saw Gavril was clutching his chest, so Aderlee planted his staff in the ground and reached out with the shadows to mend his wounds. Aderlee disliked healing forsaken, their dead bodies left him no way to heal with his preferred method. As each forsaken may have died differently, Aderlee could never be sure if an arm was gone permanently, or maybe that hole was always in that chest. He wasn’t as proficient with the shadows compared to blood magic either. A shadow then swirled around Aderlee’s fingertips as he willed Gavril’s chest wound to heal as much as he could. Finished with that, he watched the infernal crash to the ground in the center of the battle. Dis buys me a moment. Aderlee reached into his front pouch and pulled out a bulb-shaped glass containing a dark blue fluid with bright purple swirls mixing about. He pulled the stopper out with his teeth and downed the entire glass in one gulp. Aderlee’s eyes screwed shut and his expression was filled with disgust, then his entire body shook lightly and his eyes opened to reveal dark and dilated pupils. The glass fell from his hand and shattered in the rubble while Aderlee clapped his hands together once and loudly. An unseen and unfelt wind seemed to sweep over Aderlee and buffeted about his robes while all the trinkets, rings and bells on his robes jingled together not unlike when a strong gust would jingle a wind chime but the sound was much uglier and out of tune. Doped and ready for battle again, Aderlee wrenched his staff from the ground and stood ready. LeslieYesterday at 12:50 PM Leslie stops just short of the impact of the infernal, making a dash to the side and sliding through the ruined ground on all fours. The worgen glances around swiftly to note where everyone is in relation to the great amalgamation, but she doesn’t need long to see that the burning construct running amok on the battlefield could only end in ruin for the Imperials. The runes on her sword flare just before she pulls it from her back and chucks it at the creature like a javelin. As she fortifies herself with runed magic flaring and her greatsword in hand, she attempts to command its attention onto herself with the hope of distracting it until it can be brought down. If nothing else, she will try to keep it engaged to buy the Alliance more time. UmbralheartYesterday at 5:30 PM Umbral's shieldwork was impeccable in this moment, Myaka pressed the attack only to be futilely swatted away by a series of precise and practiced motions from her massive slab of a shield. As she backed away from her attackers, dancing over the dead and dodging the souls of the damned joining the fray she can't help but smile more with every futile blow swatted away. Every thud from every blow deflected by her shield serving only as accompaniment music for her chorus line of cackling. After a few more moments spent backing up and suffering through whatever fresh hell Myaka's flaming shield could produce Umbral yelled out in orcish "If Gavril is safe then get my bruised ass out of here!" Le'saraYesterday at 6:45 PM Le'sara saw Umbral under assault and was quick. She blinked forward, getting up close to the Alliance attacker. She grinned at Myaka and gave a very venemous "Hello, swine." Which she followed up by placing her hand in front of Myaka's face and attempting to blast it with fire. Vindicator JaelantiaYesterday at 6:47 PM "This demon stands between them and retribution!" Jaelantia bellowed over the din of the fighting. Her skin had finally stopped its itching and burning and was now down to a dull ache thanks to her own Light healing -- and now she was prepared for another engagement. She glowered up at the Infernal, the flickering felflame illuminating the bloodied Hand emblem upon her chest. "Remove it!" She lunged forward, dust and debris kicking up from her hooves. Carrying that momentium into attack, she put her weight into a swing to strike the great fel construct, Light shimmering around the head of the great hammer.(edited) MyakaYesterday at 6:51 PM Myaka just snarls back at Le'sara and raises her dragonscale shield. The purple scales pulse with twilight energies and any magical or fel attack would be hard pressed to get past it's heavy resistance. Shadowflame roars from it's center, looking to pay the mage back with flames of it's own. DuhallenYesterday at 7:04 PM Duhallen ducked behind the large Tauren. he pulled up his mask a bit to get air. He almost felt his life force ripped from him. His eyes narrowing he slipped his helmet back on Pulling from the nether from health stones he infused one in his form. Standing behind Awatu looking at the field. He slid up his staff at it seemed to writhe with the infernal magics.. Etching a marking in the air then slamming the Staff on the ground a casing of a portal appeared near Umbral and near where she could jump up to be by Awatu. The portal would be a deathtrap to anyone but Grim. KatelleYesterday at 7:05 PM Ketani reared her mount up before colliding with the Infernal. Her first instinct was to attempt to enslave or even banish the construct, but seeing Jaelentia in the throng of holy wrath changed her mind. Instead, she lifted her hands away from the reigns and began chanting in eredun. Gloved hands glowed with felfire as she attempted to wrest control of the flames binding the Internal together. PincusYesterday at 7:24 PM The Forsaken watched the wrath his creation had brought. "Less of a force and more of a diversion", he thought. With a quick wave of his hands and a whisper of Gutterspeak, he begins to spread his version of pestilence and agony to the Alliance below. Then, with a quick snap of his fingers, his felsteed appears from the Nether, and he makes a quick getaway to the rearward position. Vindicator JaelantiaYesterday at 7:42 PM Feeling the prickling of her skin signalling the beginning of another slew of curses, Jaelantia quickly withdrew a few steps from the Infernal to utter a very brief prayer and cleanse herself with the Light. She sighed with relief as she began to purge the ailment from her body. Before returning to the fight, she glanced over at Ketani and Myaka to see if they were similarly afflicted.(edited) UmbralheartYesterday at 7:51 PM Umbral hops back through Duhallen's portal having little faith the Grim Warlock was acting in her best interest but was pleasantly surprised to be by Awatu and suddenly safe for now. She hoped Gavril and Le'sara had the common sense to retreat to safety as well before being overwhelmed by a gold and blue tide that was over taking Tirisfal. After having taken just long enough to gain her bearings she takes up a defensive posture near Awatu, swatting away the occasional mindless undead as she stays vigilant.(edited) AwatuYesterday at 8:44 PM The Alliance continued their pursuit, and Awatu was backed into a corner. The rubble itself had been cleared enough for individuals to enter the guild hall, but it still left an opening for Alliance to eventually make their way inside. As Awatu deflected arrows and spells with his shield, he looked up towards the hills in the direction of Undercity. There, siege engines could be seen, slowly making their way back to Brill. Along with with several contingents of soldiers. A relatively small group of Grim would not be able to hold off a direct assault from a military force being spearheaded by the Twilight Empire. It was only a matter of time before they were overrun. The order had gone out to fall back to the guild hall. Awatu kept his shield high and deflected as much as he could, granting cover to anyone seeking entrance. He raised a hoof into the air and stomped the earth. Fiery light emanated from the ground, creating a hazard for any approaching melee combatants. The terrain would hold, but not for long. GavrilYesterday at 9:39 PM Shadows mend the gaping hole in Gavril's chest, from Aderlee's spell, and the warlock is visibly relieved and reinvigorated, though his flesh still shows the worse for wear. He nods a quick thanks to the priest as he reaches the entrance to the guild hall, and the relative safety of Brill's ruins. Standing near the bulwark of Awatu and Umbral, instead of immediately heading through the entrance, he turns to face the oncoming Alliance, fixating his vengeful gaze on the Vindicator. Tracing symbols in the air and chanting in Eredun, he thrusts his palm forward and launches a Seed wreathed in green and black Corruption, heading straight towards the paladin. Vindicator JaelantiaYesterday at 11:04 PM Jaelantia's eyes turned upwards towards the Infernal - and beyond it, to the oncoming spell. As it travelled quickly through the air, the paladin was illuminated in a shimmer of blue. This was the third affliction volleyed her way since arriving, now, and she was growing quite ready for them. As the Light's protective blessing surrounded her, she began shimmering as she had earlier when she was protected with a divine shield. Now, though the Corruption could find a home in the holy vessel of the paladin's body, she would at least be able to endure for a little longer without a surprise knife in the side to go with her agony. Staring down the incoming spell, she drew back one arm, and then thrust it forward in a furious pitching motion. As her fingers cut through the air, the Light began to collect between her fingertips, finally manifesting into the shape of a stone hammer. It flew forth at the end of her throw, and she observed its course - straight into the warlock's direction - as she followed through.(edited) August 15, 2018 MyakaToday at 8:45 AM Myaka would keep pushing forward towards the bulk of the Grim, the warrior being hit by the agony and affliction curses but her pain resistance keeping her upright and moving, albeit a bit slower than before. Her singular purpose is on the Tauren who seems to be the leader, and she seems to be attempting to get to him. PincusToday at 8:50 AM Pincus made it back behind the defensive line, leaping over the line. The felsteed disappeared in midair, and the Forsaken fell rather unelegantly to the ground. Getting himself up and dusting himself off, a familiar voice piped up. "Hey boss, it's all on fire, yo. Doc Rock is also smashing up your joint. Richard is keepin' an eye on the payload,you waiting for your word. Whadda need me to do?" "Shut up and go away," Pincus replied. "This is now a job for Krathoon." The Forsaken begins to muttered, sending Pizloz back to the nether. As his summoning completes, a felguard stands where the imp was moments before. Pincus turns to the demon, points to the battlefield, and says "Hit one of them. Hard. Until either they are dead or you are." DuhallenToday at 10:19 AM Duhallen was told to retreat again.. He looked back inside and to the battlefield.. Oh fearless commander what the hell is in that bull brain of yours? Good thing he couldn't read expressions in the clothing he wore. He focused on Myaka, the curses already on her, he decided to drain her very soul. Casting his hand out as he retreated he focused.. Pulling her very essence from her if he could simply to slow her advance more and perhaps weaken her enough before she would get to the Tauren. MyakaToday at 11:27 AM There is a tug as the drain soul connects, but it would seem like there is no soul to take, almost as if another warlock beat Duhallen to draining it. The small tug doesn't distract the warrior much at all from her path. KatelleToday at 11:42 AM Grin and bear it was Ketani's motto as she fought to keep control of the felfire surrounding the Infernal through the pain of nether afflictions. Growls and gasps marked her pain until it passed, but by that point she had torn the Infernal down to its sum parts. With eyes focused on the group of Grim gathered at a decimated building, Ketani used her magic to hurl the pile of demonic rubble towards the Grim. It flamed anew with her own chaotic fel energies, the felfire and Infernal boulders hurtling through the air with the speed and ferocity of an angry, blood-seeking warlock. MyakaToday at 11:54 AM Myaka disengaged back from the grim as the rubble flies towards them, watching to see if anyone has an opening for an attack Vindicator JaelantiaToday at 12:15 PM While her muscles throbbed with pain, Jaelantia spent what focus she could to extend a hand towards Ketani. She hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly, but after a moment the Light sprung forth from her fingers, a vibrant beam of golden light briefly enveloping the warlock. The curse she had been afflicted with would sting a bit less, and wounds would cease to burn as the Light restored some of her strength. KatelleToday at 12:17 PM Ketani took a brief moment to regain her bearings once she sent the flaming rubble towards the Grim, and Jaelentia's efforts sped the process along. Breathing a little easier, she spared the draenei a nod. Vindicator JaelantiaToday at 12:21 PM Jaelantia watched to see that she was well, but did not return the gesture. Choosing instead to face the fore, she began to stride forth through the rubble of the Infernal. Ahead, there was a felguard - and a group of Horde warlocks who were surely responsible for its blasphemous existence. GavrilToday at 1:17 PM As the hammer flies towards Gavril, end over end, shadows coalesce into a barrier around him. The hammer slams into the surface of the barrier, shattering into a hundred fragments of Light, spraying outwards and dissipating into the air. The warlock whips around, escaping into the guild hall to no doubt prepare for the siege to come. AderleeToday at 2:57 PM While Ketani sent the pile of demonic rubble speeding toward the Grim position, Aderlee shook his staff up and down wildly while chanting in ancient Zandalari. Empowered from drinking his brew, Aderlee’s voice deepened in octave and had the odd sound of multiple trolls chanting as one. The witch doctor’s chanting, combined with the bells and trinkets jingling wildly was displeasing to the ear at best and more likely grating like nails on a chalkboard. Aderlee could do nothing to stop the rubble, and if he could there were far too many pieces to stop anyways. Hopefully another Grim soldier would be able to stop the larger pieces that made up the torso and limbs of the infernal. The effect of Aderlee’s chanting would momentarily toughen the Grim’s exposed skin like steel during the impact. It would do nothing to lessen the pain of being hit, but the rubble would deflect as if impacting well forged plate armor. Aderlee grimaced as he was pelted by dozens of smaller pieces, then shouted in pain as a rock the size of a watermelon hit him square in the chest, knocking him on his back. With the air knocked out of him Aderlee gasped and tenderly felt his chest, wincing as he felt multiple broken ribs. Before rising to his feet, Aderlee wiggles his fingers about and willed his body to knit back together his bruised and broken bones. KatelleToday at 3:16 PM Katelle stuck to the shadows this entire time, wary of the overlarge Tauren and his command of the Light. Now that his consecrated ground had faded, however, she set her eyes on the downed troll. This one was personal: she recognized him as the troll that translated her wedding vows! Katelle spoke across the guildstone as she stepped through the shadows, exiting them just behind Adderlee. She crouched down just far enough to reach one hand on either side of his throat, keeping wary of his tusks in the moment, and pull a garrote wire taut around his neck.(edited) MyakaToday at 3:19 PM Myaka also charges towards Adderlee, but she doesn't move to attack the troll, instead she plants herself between Kate and the Grim, expecting someone to try to aid the troll. She wants to make sure no one can't help him. UmbralheartToday at 3:46 PM Umbral leaps into position between Aderlee and Myaka, planting herself between the priest and the Empire, her arrival and speed carrying enough weight and presence to stun all in front of her as she hip chucks the priest towards the entrance of the guild hall. Umbrals cackling from underneath her helmet ringing out as her shield plants itself as an annoyingly ever present obstacle. KatelleToday at 3:48 PM Having already stepped through the shadows behind Aderlee and made a grab for him, Katelle gets hip-chucked towards the entrance of the Grim guild hall as well. Whee! Vindicator JaelantiaToday at 3:56 PM While the chunks of Infernal flew through the air, the paladin's relentless rush brought her nearer still to the warlocks and their freshly summoned felguard. She stopped short, the loud clanging of her greaves ceasing just as they had grown their loudest. Her right fist held her warhammer steady as she drew herself back on one leg for an instant. One of her armor covered hooves raised into the air, hovering momentarily over the dead and trampled soil below. With a guttural shout, she stomped back down again, and the impact seemed to crack the very earth beneath her. Shafts of brilliant golden Light swiftly spread in all directions around her, the paladin standing as the epicenter of a sanctified circle. The consecrated ground shuddered with the very force of the holy Light, the divine magic searing any foes caught standing in it.(edited) MyakaToday at 4:00 PM Myaka is stunned, managing to stay upright but she does stumble and take a moment to regain her bearings and balanace. She snarls at Umbral knocks Kate and Adderlee away. She is invigorated by the consecrated circle, though it is noticibly dimmer around her. KatelleToday at 4:03 PM From this close up, Ketani could feel them. Wards--wards around what she presumed was the Grim guild hall, what with the banner flying their grotesque colors. She didn't have the time to pay attention to them just now, though, instead opting to coil her nether energies around her and release them in a terrifying screech that echoed with the voices of a thousand tormented souls. Hopefully, someone would flee in terror as she had made so many do before. PincusToday at 4:05 PM The Forsaken looks at the lump on the ground from the well timed rush. A brief breeze - cutting through the grass, moving it ever so slightly - rushes over the human. The voice of the Eredar carried by the wind. "Die. I am the eater of souls. I am the destroyer of worlds. You will not survive. You will be my slave for time eternal." QabianToday at 4:20 PM From some place that was heavily shielded by Awatu's large form, solid shield, and freakish sun powers, Qabian contributed what he could, mostly by avoiding the direct clashes others were finding themselves in, sending discouraging fire toward any stragglers or scouts trying to find flanking positions. He managed to counter at least one large chunk of infernal with a last second pyroblast over Awatu's shoulder that probably singed a little. But the order to fall back to the hall itself had already gone out, and with his fist of silver wire and white light drawn close in front of his face, the air around the blood elf shimmered for a moment, then he vanished entirely. PincusToday at 4:24 PM Pincus eyes the field - and thinks that the elf is getting a little too far out for comfort. Reaching in his bag, he pulls out a small device and hurls it in the direction of Umbralheart. The mechanical squirrel runs off to fetch something for his master. KatelleToday at 4:29 PM Before the fear takes hold, the masked rogue barks a laugh at Pincus and wraps herself around the back of Aderlee's body, locking her legs at the ankles and locking her garrote wire into place around the troll's neck. Her embrace might even be considered intimate if it weren't for the wire and the way her laughter dies into a terrified scream once the Forsaken's spell fully washes over her. Locked into place as she is, her flailing to try and get away get away oh dear Light get away from here just does more damage to Aderlee and his windpipe (and anything else he wants damaged. She's got knives everywhere). (( Tagging for @Aderlee's return to RP so he can see what is happening to his character! )) MyakaToday at 4:43 PM The scream distracts Myaka, cutting through the rage induced haze, seeing that Kate isn't attacked she assumes it's either a priest or warlock spell. Even though she knows this, the attack against her friend and General causes her rage to grow, she starts swinging her blade at Umbral in rapid controlled strikes and stabs. She follows up on the strike with a massive plume of shadowflame roaring from the center, hoping the strikes knocked Umbral off focus enough for the life drain and debilitating cold of the flame to get past the other warriors defense. UmbralheartToday at 4:52 PM Umbral's cackling grows quiet as the fear sets out over the battlefield, Myaka's strikes give her pause as she works to deflect and buffet them against her shield, but there is little in her toolbox to defend against the fire seeping from Myaka's shield. Sometimes a simple tool is the best tool, sometimes a blunt hammer is the best tool for the job. Umbral lifts her polearm high and drives the flat of the blade down towards Myaka's head with enough force to stun even the most battle hardened warrior even if the blow is deflected. PincusToday at 4:54 PM As Pincus eyes the chaos he's unleashed, he ponders if it is time for some more. "He needs to be kept on his toes..." Pincus whistles and ponts at Umbralheart's grappling foe. Krathoon stops, and charges full speed at the combatant, axe back and at the ready.(edited) MyakaToday at 6:25 PM Myaka moved and blocked the polearm with her own blade, locking the two in a standstill. She was already moving to use the locked blade as a way to hopefully pull the polearm free from Umbral's grip but the felguard stops her plan. She has to move her shield to block the axe though she tries to at least keep Umbral's blade locked in a stalemate. UmbralheartToday at 6:31 PM Umbral begins cackling again as the felguard intervenes, she pulls back from Myaka and follows Katelle and Aderlee into the obscure guild hall entrance. Vindicator JaelantiaToday at 7:49 PM From above the felguard's head came the sudden blow of a hammer - materialized from seemingly nothing, the Light formed the shape of a weapon to strike the new combatant and stun it where it stood. Jaelantia would soon be upon the felguard, eyes full of fury. MyakaToday at 7:58 PM Myaka nods at Jael before turning and moving after Umbral, she didn't want to leave Kate to be attacked since she'd be focused on the healer.
  40. 1 point
    ((The storyline is still wrapping up a few loose threads in Discord, but here's a post about The Grim losing their long-time guildhall in Brill as a result of it.)) By now, everyone has surely heard about the Battle of Lordaeron. The Alliance forces overtook the place, swarming through the ruins like rats scurrying through a tomb. The Warchief had no choice but to call for her Horde forces to retreat. When Baine sounded the retreat, the Commander of The Grim gave the order for his members to fall back to the Grim’s halls in Brill to defend their base there. They broke off from the rest of the Horde and headed for where the Gallow’s End Tavern once stood. The town was already in ruin, and the secret entrance to the Grim’s headquarters was exposed. After the Mandate’s followers were inside, the door was sealed with magic and stone. Some Alliance, namely the Twilight Empire, saw The Grim breaking off the main group of Horde and pursued. It did not take them long to break through the barriers at the entrance of the guildhall, and soon members bearing the colors of Twilight Empire clashed with those of The Grim just inside the entrance. Meanwhile, other Grim were deeper in the catacombs, retrieving documents and artifacts and other important items. Eventually, knowing they were outnumbered with all the Alliance outside, Awatu, the Grim Commander, gave the order for the Grim to abandon their guildhall of many years and find their way to safety. Most of the Grim exited the halls through portals, summons, and back exits. A few remained to stall the Alliance intruders for a few more precious moments, sacrificing themselves so the others could get out. Grim who spoke about the whole incident had varying emotions. Some were angry, some were indifferent. “It was… not unexpected, considering the result of the Ashenvale offensive,” Commander Awatu Stonespire of The Grim said. “While effective, the Warchief continues to make… questionable tactical decisions. As for the loss of the Halls, they are simply rooms and corridors. We can rebuild and rejoin the war effort. We lost a battle, but a war still needs to be fought.” Commander Stonespire has since called for the search of a suitable location for a new Grim guildhall. High Inquisitor Qabian Grimfire had a bit more than that to say on the subject. “Our guild hall was a stuffy, gloomy place that wasn’t worth spending any more time in than absolutely necessary, but it was useful enough with its history and its use as a gathering point that it was frequently absolutely necessary. Gathering points are easy enough to replace, but the history we built is gone. “Perhaps on some level it was inevitable that Stormwind would try to reclaim Lordaeron from the people who paid the price of their very lives to remain in their own homeland,” Qabian continued. “Humans have always been idiotic on the basest of levels, prone to taking things that don’t belong to them. However, I for one am convinced that they never would have had the courage to march through Tirisfal and ruin the lives we’d built if it weren’t for the things I’m hearing about the reappearance of a Menethil. “The individuals who chased us through and ransacked the place we had made ours, on the other hand,” Qabian went on some more, “I believe did so for deeply personal reasons, because they took offense to the various effects the Mandate had on their lives. That also has an edge of inevitability. The Mandate is not in the business of diplomacy or goodwill. We will always make the kind of enemies who would gladly end our lives with their own hands, and if they are given the opportunity to exploit any weaknesses we may suffer, as the Battle for Undercity provided them, they will never hesitate to strike. Never doubt that for a moment. Therein lies the importance of seeing the Mandate through to its ultimate goal. Should we fail, our survival, as individuals, as a collective, as nations, as the Horde itself, all of it is on the line.” Aureilya Raindawn, Keeper of Grim scrolls and documents, scowled when asked about it. “It matters not,” she said. “Let them have the blight infested land, it’s worthless to them anyway. It doesn’t matter to the Mandate what location we hold. The loss of the guildhall changes nothing. Our numbers continue to grow, even now. Let their blood soak the earth of whatever new location we procure.” A flash of rage passed through Gavril Nikolaev’s eyes when asked about it, but the Grim warlock quickly regained his composure. “We lost the guild hall. We lost the Undercity. I pray we recovered enough from our archives and vaults that the loss cuts none too deep. Sentimentality favors us not, but the fact of the matter is that we are at a severe tactical disadvantage. “We Forsaken are not well-loved by the other members of the Horde,” Gavril continued. “The loss of the Undercity is not something about which most orcs, trolls, Tauren or elves will think twice. The burning of Teldrassil, however … Will either galvanize the Alliance, or burn away at their faith … We need a new guild hall, or our enemies will chip away at us and eventually destroy us. We are nomads. Homeless. Exposed to the elements. This must needs be rectified before anything else.” “The battle was a mess,” commented Umbra Longheart, warrior of The Grim. “The Alliance caught us with our pants down, nobody suspected they would stoop to our level when they flattened Brill. It’s not the first battle I’ve been on the losing side of, though some could have saved themselves some grief by following Awatu’s orders clearly. In the heat of battle, a clear chain of command needs to be adhered to, even a bad plan can succeed with everyone working in lock step.” Umbra went on to add, “I never spent much time there as i never felt entirely… safe… I’ve done a bit of leg work finding some nice out of the way, forgotten by time locations throughout Lordaeron that would be suitable for modification, I’ve already handed the list off to Qabian though I’m sure he’s forgotten about it if he even had time to read it while beating the war drum.” Aquizit Shadesoul, Seeker of The Grim, did not seem too concerned when asked about the loss of the guildhall. “It’s a shame, solely for the fact of needing to find somewhere else to store and house the things and people who need it. I think, as a whole, it is insignificant. This organization does not suffer those who can’t take care of themselves, and the Mandate is enduring beyond paper, parchment, or records. It’s good to have a hall, for presence’s sake alone, to tell the world we exist, and that we endure. But for one individual hall? It’s just a symbol, not the heart.” Aderlee said “I tink de Grim fought well. We ‘ad very liddle casualties and we kept de Alliance away for a good while. De wards were strong but not strong enough. Dat was a weakness I ‘ad found last year at Khorvis’ request, but I don’t know if anyting was done ta make dem stronger. Da guild hall itself was fine, but it’s a loss dat we can replace. Losing Brill and Lordaeron exposed dat it was not in a strong position. We can do better. We got de important bits and artifacts and Grims out. Dat’s more important den stone and dirt.” Lord Pincus Dorian, longtime warlock of The Grim, gave only three words in comment: “Unfortunate, but necessary.” ====================================================================== Grim and TE.jpg (77.91 KiB) Viewed 2 times OOC~ Before the storyline kicked off, The Grim and Twilight Empire met to have some fun PVP skirmishes outside of Brill. This was The Grim’s last event on Twisting Nether/Ravenholdt servers. Thank you, Twilight Empire, for being a part of it!
  41. 1 point
    me is lunk, i ritE word 2 telL aventu adveture story 2-dayyY good dayy talk wit bOb wach sho togetah wit bob affer go tak wit miss raZzy but miss rAzzy make LUNK fel sad scarE ladi hurt pretti miSs ket n miss razzy no want punish no unnerstan. lunk confuse, think miss razzy say 4 tat fite fite bad bad. alSo see lonk 2deey he men 2 LUNK try stel lunk lunch cuz he say no fairsies dat LUnk see miss razzy. no lunk faul he see miss RaZzy n lonk no. LONk no go see 4 self. if want go see miss razzy, not hard. dumb dumb lonk. luv lunk ❤️ The writing is crude, having been written by an overly enthusiastic hobgoblin. The paper is torn, but still connected to others in a raggedy looking journal of sorts. It is stained, having been held by the mook throughout his daily activities, including but not limited to: using his zappy stick, rolling on the ground, and kicking over all the backyard furniture at Razz's home looking for the pen he thought lost forever.
  42. 1 point
    "You heard the High Overlord," the orcish grunt said with an arm pointed toward their target. "Find the civilians. Get them out." Vilmah had answered the call, and already she was uneasy. It was almost a relief when the Warchief sent her and a few hundred others to find Saurfang, the one orc she trusted to speak his mind in this madness. He was gone when they attacked Astranaar, but he wouldn't allow things to escalate to that level on his watch. When she arrived to his orders that they find night elf civilians and bring them in for questioning, part of her stomach settled. It was still nauseating that the Horde was attacking the Kaldorei, that they marched toward their tree in an effort to secure it for their own purposes, but at least no civilians would be killed this time. It was, of course, difficult to get them to trust her. She was an orc, and a strange looking one at that. Smaller than most, her robot arm and purple tabard did little to soothe the fears of the citizens that she found huddled and hidden. They stared at her with horrified eyes that had already witnessed the savage butchery of the Horde, and in their eyes she saw her fears; that the Horde would always be known for this, their cruelty, and how easy it was to show them just how cruel they could be. Why in the world would the trust her, after seeing other orcs like herself tear down their walls and burn their homes? All around, she heard shouts of conflict; trolls yelling in Zandali, relishing in the slaughter of elves. The Forsaken she saw wore mangled grins as they ripped apart guards with magic and blades, and even the noble blood elves covered bodies with arrows like some strange artistic display. She couldn't just extend her hand and ask these people to trust her, not when she knew what awaited them. "I take you safety," she said in broken Common, though it was clear by Vilmah's expression that hope was fading fast. The elves she found were a mother and daughter, hidden in the corner of their store room. The older of the two was already stained with blood, perhaps from the child's father. Their glowing eyes were rimmed with red and tears were still glistening on their cheeks as they looked at this small orc with her extended hand and broken Common in disbelief. The mother turned to her daughter and nodded sadly, then said something in their language that Vilmah could not understand. Choking back a sob, she and the little girl put something in their mouths, which Vilmah couldn't quite understand until it was too late. "No, wait!!" But they already swallowed, and the effects of the pill didn't take long. The mother clutched her child and sobbed, and the child looked strangely serene as she stated at Vilmah accusingly. Her eyes said "you did this", and in that moment, Vilmah would not have been able to argue otherwise. Leaving the little family to their peaceful death, the blademaster stepped out of their house and looked for more civilians. By then, most of the houses were on fire and there would be few she could find in the wreckage, but she went in anyway. The bare skin of her shoulders and torso blistered with the heat of the burning buildings, and her metal arm grew uncomfortably hot as she used it to break open doors. A few civilians she found were less intent on taking their own lives, but at least half a dozen saw Vilmah as a threat, and whatever "mercy" the Horde would grant as a torture worse than death. In those situations, Vilmah wanted to stop them. Surely, hope was still a possibility? But she knew imprisonment, she knew what sort of life awaited them in the shackles of the Horde, and even with his greatest attempts at mercy, Saurfang could not protect them. Maybe they are better off dead.. she thought with a sick feeling, the nausea returning. When she gathered as many as she could find, Vilmah returned to where she last saw Saurfang. He had already mounted his wolf long ago and was gone. She was going to ask what was wrong, but another orcish grunt pointed over her shoulder. "Look!" When she turned, the sound of Saurfang riding ahead echoed in her ears. The tree was aflame. In the distance, across the water, the home of thousands of elves burned without any sign of stopping. From such a distance, she could not see the people's faces, but she understood their predicament. There weren't enough boats, enough portals, for all of them to escape. There would be casualties, and they would be massive. Vilmah's heart felt like a stone in her chest, cold and heavy, as she listened to the cheers around her. Most of the Horde celebrated their victory as the civilians, some of whom Vilmah saved, looked on in horror as their tree grew bright red and lit the sky like a giant torch. A few Horde did not celebrate. They passed each other worried glances, perhaps ashamed of this act, perhaps afraid of the retaliation that would surely meet them. Vilmah just stared. Saurfang.. Whistling for her wolf, Edmund answered her almost immediately. He had been waiting for her nearby, hidden in the forest among the other animals that somehow escaped the wrath of war. Climbing on his back, Vilmah kicked him into a run and followed the path left behind by Saurfang. She had to see him, she had to see his face. When she did, she noticed that his face was contorted, enraged. He had been screaming something, but now it had passed. What did she miss? Saurfang, she thought to herself, tears blinding her. You coward.. you fucking coward.. you knew that was going to happen, didn't you? You knew, and you didn't even try to stop her.. Was any of it true? Maybe not, but the anger burned in her chest and when she arrived to the scene of the Warchief, Nathanos and Saurfang staring at their handiwork, she thought perhaps that she caught a glimpse of the High Overlord's face displaying regret. Shame. I should kill her, she thought to herself. I should kill her, now. I may not get through the dark rangers, I may not get through Nathanos, hell I may not get through Saurfang but I should try.. The thoughts were almost as comforting as they were impossible. Vilmah remained yards behind them, hidden among the rest of the Horde as they celebrated or mourned their "victory". As much as she wanted to make the attempt, she knew it would fail. Whatever skill she had as a blademaster was no match for the banshee. Not alone, and not with so many allies surrounding her. Sylvanas was untouchable, and unchallenged. Again, she looked at Saurfang, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts. in his face, Vilmah remembered the look she saw in Thrall when last she saw him; broken by his own decisions. Saurfang wanted to die in battle, that much was known to the Horde, and his age showed with every line in his face and the silver of his hair, but never before had he seemed so very old to her. Even his muscles felt smaller, weaker, and with none of the taut energy that the High Warlord often displayed. Here was an orc she respected, trusted even, but once again that trust was burned to ash. Like the world tree, Vilmah felt her faith in the Horde burn once again. Her desire to bring peace to her people went up in smoke like the thousands of screaming elves, and she had to remind herself that somewhere, her own people would be waiting for her. Waiting for something. Hesitantly, she looked away from Saurfang. Another hero gone.
  43. 1 point
    Early on the third day the agent makes good time reaching the Ruins of Lordaeron, if one could call sneaking past a choke point filled with undead troops in any form 'quick'. Crossing to Fenris Isle, then crossing again to the mainland shore would be much too conspicuous to even the least vigilant peering eyes, so Bronwen pays off a band of rebellious worgen with a good chunk of her supplies to create some trouble on the other side of the road closer to the water to draw the guards' attention. Even if one or a few are ordered to keep watch, the nearby commotion helps her pass through the shadows, and the skirmishers are more than happy to help out, both for the reason to charge in and create trouble and for the small reserve of first aid supplies, dried meat and fruit she leaves with their camp. "At least someone appreciates it," she thinks, but not until she's safely past the redoubt and allows herself the chance to roll her eyes. The relatively clear but still sickly-looking skies of Silverpine become even more clouded and gloomy with every step of the human's creeping advance. It is the same as she expects. Same as it always was, but it makes her frown a little bit more, this time. The dead winds are a little more fetid and the howls of blighted hounds more ominous to her, and that's even without the haze of knowing nothing more than Astranaar has been attacked, at this point. Attacked again, more appropriately. There are elves all over the forest there hiding in the trees, she believes. If the fantastical stories about them are to be believed there is one kaldorei for each tree and they each can fell an orc between the boughs before a human eye can even see them, but that particular conversation has never come up between her and a night elf. She tries to think nothing of it, as she has her own tasks before her. The first of which is to find a tree to climb for watch, reporting, and somewhat of a nap while she can manage such a thing. There is one in particular she likes to choose while here that's fairly close to the sewers, but far enough that even the patrols with the widest avenues don't reach. It's tall with plenty of foliage and broad offshoots and it works perfectly as watching the giant disgusting divide in the side of the hills is one great note to check off of the list of things she has to scout. Her eyes stay on it and the sporadic bat-traffic that comes and goes, but her mind wanders just enough so she doesn't zone entirely out. She thinks about how she wants to go peek inside, despite orders stating not to do that very thing. She knows better, and she'd not come out until she'd wasted all her time harassing poor merchants and throwing dust into bats' faces as they passed through the arches up high to throw their riders to the ground. At least she'd do that if she wasn't bored and daring enough to throw it into the faces of the mages maintaining the city's portals and interrupt their focus enough to break the connection to the others for a few moments. She wonders if she should have first run off to Kalimdor to get her nightsaber from Darnassus, as she's planned to bring her home and put off for a couple weeks now, instead of reporting to Command for orders that ultimately brought her here. There are plenty of other things she thinks on, particularly the more comfortable things that have been left behind for who knows how long. While watching the great lack of activity happening around the sewers for a good while, Bronwen uses a runestone to recount her actions and observations in both Silverpine and Tirisfal up until this point. It amounts to very little, but little change this far gives her more focus for what's to come next. When the day is yet young, she shifts her cloak to wrap it around herself a little better, both for hiding from sight within the shadows of the branches and for a strangely comforting warmth. On the fourth day, after activity doesn't pick up, Bronwen makes her way uneventfully to the Bulwark, and gives her report on it and the barren entrance to the ruined city. Late on the fifth day, she turns back and makes her way towards Brill again, scooping fine sandy dirt into a pouch or two to stash in a leg pocket near her potions and antidotes. Upon fitting it inside and loosening the strings just enough to be able to reach into it when she needed it, she spies a lone patrolman walking down the road in her direction with a sword strapped across his back, a torch in his hand, and the Icon of Torment on his chest. She crouches in the bushes with a blade drawn and waits for him to pass, and in a quick flurry from behind a clean dagger is sent up through his throat and into his head with precision. She only looks down the road and back towards the other direction with little mind paid to his gurgling and lurching, since she expects and accounts for it in her own bracing movements. She hardly even looks at his face when she pulls her blade free once he falls still and inspects him just enough to be sure that he is in fact entirely dead, now. The body is left unpilfered in the middle of the road, and the torch left to burn itself out. Bronwen finds another tree to climb into a great distance away from the scene so she can watch what comes next, and plan accordingly.
  44. 1 point
    The building was on fire and it was not his fault. He would have been disappointed if he had not been running for his life. An arrow snatching at the hem of his robes made an unnecessary point about the gravity of his situation. " Stand and fight, COWARD!" The sentinel demanded, nocking another arrow and firing it in rapid succession. The shot missed his ear by a matter of inches, causing him to instinctively jerk away in a delayed and thoroughly pointless reflex. Qabian blamed his exhaustion. The smoke in the air was getting worse, his eyes had begun to water and breathing was growing more and more difficult. Perhaps that was why the "legendary" archers were shooting so poorly. A useless byproduct saving his life from an enraged woman. It could have been the exhaustion from the battle or the adrenaline induced hysteria of the chase but the thought caused the magister to start laughing. He was rewarded for his momentary lapse in focus with an armored fist across his cheek. The sentinel had finally caught up to him. Any noise of protest he could have made was silenced as the heel of her boot pressed down painfully upon his ribs, driving the air from his lungs. " You think this is funny?" She demanded as she drew the arrow back and took aim, from such a distance she was not likely to miss. " No, this just reminds me of my career in teaching. Though i'd call it more hilarious than funny." Another chuckle was cut short as the Kal'dorei put more pressure on his aching ribs. "Shut. Up." The woman snarled as she stared down the grinning mage. " Or what? You will shoot me? Hardly a threat after-Hngh!" He let out a pained cough as she pressed down on his ribs again and bared her sharpened teeth. The woman looked as exhausted as he felt. Grime and blood coated the plates of her armor and left uneven splashes across the exposed purple flesh. Now that he had a moment to finally look at his would be executioner, he could see shaking limbs. She was tired, she was hurt, and she was racked with anxiety from the slaughter. " I thought your kind believed in honor! Where is the honor in this?" She snapped at him. It took him a moment to realize she expected an answer. He kept his surprise hidden behind his usual infuriating smirk. He needed time, just a little bit more to catch his breath, and in her anger she had give him exactly that. He did not have the energy to formulate a proper lie or story to stall her. Between the lack of oxygen and the delirious feeling born of a mixture of panic and hope he could barely even think. He would never tell anyone what happened that night but he would continue to blame that for what he blurted out. " Do you believe in the boogeyman too?" He babbled as he saw the string stretch back in preparation. The question earned him a slight reprieve as she drew her boot back enough to allow him to breathe but still keep him pinned. " What?" She demanded. " What are you talking about?" " The Boogeyman. The monster under the bed or in the closet of children. A figment of their imagination created by their fear of the dark." He hissed out as he sucked in a grateful breath of smoke-tinged air. He was not sure what annoyed him more, the straws he grasped for to stall the woman or the fact that it seemed to be working. " No child should fear the dark." She snapped, still trying to puzzle out what the man was talking about. " But they do." He insisted, feeling a familiar tingling as the exhausted reserves began to fill drop by drop. " They use it to explain their own fear because a fear of nothing is ridiculous! It's a faulty construct." His rant was halted as the boot pressed down upon his ribs again, the sentinel controlled the flow of the conversation and she wanted him to know it. " That's what it is to you? Nothing?" " Less than nothing," Qabian confirmed with a wheeze, expending what little air he had left. He fought down a surge of panic as the bow was drawn back another inch in preparation. " Think about it!" He wheezed, hiding his relief when she relaxed a fraction of an inch. " The orcs are the ones shouting it the loudest and what are they? The ones with the most to make up for. If not for this concept what would they have left? Nothing." The end of the statement was barely a whisper as his head began to spin The sentinel eased up on his ribs enough to let him draw in another choking lungful of air which he sucked in greedily and promptly hacked up a globule of dirty saliva. " Nobody wants that they are irrational or horrible. Everyone wants to be right. So what do you do with that much baggage? You make up a code. Make up some justification for why you've done what you've done and pretend that you're not as bad as they say because you have one noble sounding concept to cling to. Honor is easily forgotten but the first thing to be cried out about. It's something you use against them even though YOU don't believe we have it in the first place!" " What's your point?" She snapped. Her ears twitched as one of the support beams let out a groan of warning and a high pitched squeal. " My point is that you are trying to insult me with air. You are trying to hit me with something that does not EXIST save for in the imagination of frightened orcs. Honor is nothing more than a word shouted out by everyone so they can pretend they aren't awful people. The Horde is awful, the alliance is awful, you are awful..." " And you are any better?" She demanded as she drew the bow taught, having reached the end of her patience with the mage's explanation. " I never said that..." He let out a raspy, unsettling laugh as he felt the spell take shape. It was a match compared to a forest fire in terms of what he usually wielded but he had nothing else. "In fact... I am far worse." Even before he had finished the statement, Qabian had begun to move. He pulled his head to the side as he tightened his chest and twisted his body to throw her off balance. The meager energy he had gathered coalesced into little more than a needle of ice, no larger than a toothbrush. As he twisted and she released her shot, the needle found the exposed joint in her armor. The arrow she held pierced the stone with a deafening shriek and a spray of sparks as the metal scraped the rock. His captor let out a shout of pain as the ice pierced her flesh, forcing her to remove the leg from his chest. He scrambled to a standing position as she fell into a seated position and let out a wordless shriek of outrage and drew another arrow The creak of a drawn bowstring was drowned out by the crack of a ceiling beam finally losing its fight with the flame. A fraction of a second was wasted as she looked up in surprise at the buckling ceiling, another fraction was wasted by panic and the torn desire between punishing the blood elf and her own survival, and then time ceased to matter as the flaming debris buried her in a roar of falling wood, flame, and stone. Exhausted by the effort and desperate for clean air, Qabian staggered out of the collapsing building, clutching his mangled and now singed ear. There was no time to even make sure the job was finished. If any of the other sentinels spotted him he was done for. He doubted talking about boogeyman would work on another one. Qabian sucked in a lungful of clean air and adjusted his rumpled robes before removing his hearthstone from his bag. This was one story of many that people would never hear. Saved by the faults in two constructs in one night? Ridiculous!
  45. 1 point
    Full Name: Pelande Aijatar Nicknames: “Pelly”, "P" Date of Birth: Aug 21 Age: ~10,000+ Race: Nightborne Gender: Female Hair: White, hints of faded blue Skin: Lavender Eyes: Lavender Height: 6’10” Weight: 205lb. Place of residence: Suramar Place of Birth: Vashj’ir Known Relatives: Maela Aijatar (sister) Religion/Philosophy: None Occupation: Warrior, mercenary, former construction worker/laborer Group/Guild affiliation: None Guild Rank: N/A Enemies: Night Elves, Legion Likes: Stiff liquor, exotic landscapes Favorite Foods: Anything with eggs Favorite Drinks: Fermented black tea Favorite Colors: Navy and gold Weapons of Choice: Spears, but mildly competent with a sword and shield Dislikes: Birds of any kind, wine Hobbies: Dance Physical Features: N/A Special Abilities: None Positive Personality Traits: Enthusiastic, focused, principled Negative Personality Traits: Prideful, reckless, holds grudges Misc. Quirks: Wears light protective plating on her forehead and ears Theme Songs: “Are Things Still Burning” by Em Harris History: Born into a family proficient in magic, Pelande always lagged far, far behind her siblings in terms of arcane ability. She was surrounded by prodigies and yet struggled to cast the simplest cantrips. One of over a dozen children to busy parents and viewed as a consistent disappointment, she received the smallest share of affection by far. This led to a strong inferiority complex that has her always projecting a prideful air. Now that she’s part of the Horde, Pelande has decided she must find out what this means to her. On top of that, she has reason to believe she isn’t the only survivor of her family line, and the clues point to the Alliance...
  46. 1 point
    A google masterlist of characters can be found HERE. Main characters are listed in the first column, with alternate characters listed across in the same row. Each name is typed out in order to be searchable using a Ctrl+F function, and sorted into class columns. For some people, anonymity is wanted and if one of your alts is listed that is NOT common knowledge, send me a PM and I will delete it. In a list this large likely no one will have even seen it. By the same token, if there are blanks you'd like to fill in, by all means, let me know! If your name is not on this list, please let me add it. Check to see if you are listed as inactive with a [xA] for Alliance or [xH] for Horde. I'd like to keep the list current by filtering active people to the top and inactive folks to the bottom, but sorting is not an exact science and I'm sure I got it wrong somewhere- no hard feelings I hope. If you see your alt in the first column please claim it to be added into the proper row with your main! Feel free to correct me if you consider your main to be different than the toon your row is listed by. You know- just be helpful if you see I've messed up. This is meant to be a useful tool that can be edited on the fly as people come and go from the game. (original Masterlist thread can be found here)
  47. 1 point
    04.27.18 Well, I did it. After many drafts burned in the fireplace, I finally had the letter he asked for. And I actually went and gave it to him. I still don’t know why. Maybe because I’m there more and more, playing games with his guards, and I should be on at least civil terms with the leader there? Maybe because The Grim is lacking numbers in certain areas, and it wouldn’t hurt to be on speaking terms with the leader of a bunch of mercs who might be able to fill in the gaps in our ranks? I think I’ll go with that reason. It’s certainly better than the thinking it might be because a short-eared elf put the crazy idea in my head that everyone’s redeemable, even me. What did I accomplish by doing this? I don’t know that either. So far, nothing. He made it clear we would never be friends again. I was surprised at my disappointment when he said that, but I guess I should have expected it. I wonder if things would have gotten this bad if I never got involved in the conflict between Konro and Breygrah. It was when I threatened her that he turned on me, I think. I can’t blame him for that. He was just protecting his own. It was no different than what I did, turning against Brey for threatening a Grim. Lotta good I did there. Konro still ended up dying by her hand anyway. That short-eared elf…. He’s still a curiosity to me. He reminds me of when I first met Aruku. I will have to investigate him some more. I probably shouldn’t though. He’s an elf, and he’s Sanctuary, and he’s a mage. There is only one thing worse than that. Still…curious.
  48. 1 point
    "Whatever strange paths we may walk in life, Kerala always seems to find her way across mine, to my great joy. I do not claim to understand the tauren, but she is my friend, and I believe that she has some great destiny in store. What, and how I might serve in guiding her towards it, I do not know. I am not an augur. But Kerala approaches her challenges with a wisdom and ferocity that few can match."
  49. 1 point
    Syreena frowns when asked about Kerala. "I'm still not sure what to think of her. She has silly notions of honor that I can't understand. She offered herself to Awatu as a Supplicant because of some ancient Tauren honor thing, but she's planning to leave us again after only a couple months. She squashed my head once, but I don't really remember it very clearly." After a pause, Syreena adds, "Also, she's so skinny! She looks like she never eats!"
  50. 1 point
    I’ve practiced a somewhat unorthodox form of RP since I rolled Malebrignon on the first day of Twisting Nether’s operation. It is a light-hearted form of “heavy” roleplay. The basic premise, which I often refer to as Ninja RP, is that everything can be roleplayed. All the game mechanics, including repetitious death and corpse-camping, can be treated as in-character concepts. Nothing requires storylines or events. You just choose to “be” your character. Here are some “rules” of Ninja RP. --- Treat everything said in /say as IC, even when it’s obviously OOC. If it’s too OOC for you to Role with, like “I just saw Spider Man 3. MJ dies at the end!”, well, that person would go on my ignore list. (That's not a SM3 spoiler. It's an example.) --- Do not /ignore other roleplayers no matter how much you don’t like them. If they are making an effort to be a character on the server and not just another “lawl RP” asshat, then you cannot pretend they don’t exist. --- Don’t tell other people how to RP. Just “role” with it. I hate seeing “lol” and “zomg” come out of RP’rs even if it’s OOC, but the fact is those words are said so much in our online society that you can simply treat them as words. “Lol” means something was funny to that person and you can react accordingly instead of sending them a tell saying {{“Listen, guy, LOL is not RP.”}} --- RP Everything. I can’t say it enough. What the hell do you mean that raid symbols break your immersion? I don’t know anything about raid symbols. I carry a box of enchanted gems which create magical markings above our targets so it’s easier to delineate who we should attack and in what order. If you don’t want me to use them, tough. I haven’t invested all this time, money, and research into enchanting for nothing! --- Acknowledge that the realm does not revolve around YOU. It revolves around ME! Well, not really, but not you either. There’s a good chance that nobody read your story/poem/art/character bio or is aware of your current plotline if you have one going. It is up to YOU to get them involved and bring them up to speed if necessary. It’s also up to you to acknowledge their own storylines if you want them involved in yours. This one is just good advice. --- You don’t always need a storyline. It really is okay to just “be”. Brig’s current “storyline” involves little more than shaping up his troops and plundering Medivh’s tower. I don’t need a driving goal past that. I am always in-character. --- RP is something you do while actually playing the game. This is the one that most people don’t seem to like. I know a huge amount of RP’rs that seem to think RP is something you only do in a town, at an event, or at other times and locations that don’t involve fighting. Is it really that hard to be in-character AND play the game? Now, this does not mean you shouldn’t stop for a swim and maybe some sunbathing while you visit with friends in Booty Bay, but it does mean that you shouldn’t go OOC the moment you put on your battle gear and leave town. --- RP Everything. I’ll say it again. Don’t take it to OOC until you just can’t conceive of RP reasoning anymore. Everything can be RP’d with a bit of creativity. It really can. Abric can show you the way on this one. Ask him to find time to include you in one of his groups and watch the show. It will give you “#1 you love it happy day joy”. --- If you’ve just plain gotta be OOC, there’s always Teamspeak/Vent. Then you can have the best of both worlds. You can RP in /p or /ra and keep your OOC chatter to TS. Unless, of course, someone has to be a ninny and won’t use their microphone. You know who you are. --- Set RP rules if you gotta. Chances are, I’ll stay IC for the most part even if you tell me that party/raid chat is OOC, but it never hurts to tell people up front. Unless it’s in /say or /y, I don’t recommend assuming something is IC. Tells and whispers are much the same. The Ninja will treat everything said to them as IC unless it’s declared otherwise. (( Put it in the brackets, dammit.)) --- Learn to Play. There are hundreds of other outlets for text-based RP if that's really all you are interested in doing. If you've been level 70 for three months and are still wearing level 62 greens.... you need to play the game. Don't make your friends carry you along, and they will if they love to RP with you. Ask questions. Keep it IC if you can; I could totally have an IC discussion about shadowpriest spell rotations in raiding. Take it to OOC if you need to. Don't tell me you're a great and powerful wizard when your average DPS is 135. --- Play the Game. Don't tell me "well, my character wouldn't do that". Find a damn reason to do it. Work with your RP buddies to make it happen. Use a little OOC arrangement if you have to do so. Don't short-change your WoW experience because "I can't do that IC." RP is all about creativity; create a reason you CAN do that. It's really that simple. I spent over a year saying "Raiding isn't RP. You can't RP raids." and all sorts of other stupid crap like that. I realized, eventually, that you can do anything you want in the game and RP it. I’m sure I’ll edit this to add some more ideas at some point, but this is a good start and I’d love to hear what others think of this. It might also help some of you understand why I can be kinda difficult to deal with. I do my best to adapt to others and hope they’ll do the same for me. A good majority of the folks I tend to talk to in-game operate under these guidelines, too. At least, I pretend that they do. There really is no point to this posting other than to make you read my preferred method of RP. I’ve done stricter, storyline-driven “heavy RP” before, but it got too involved and depressing at times. It bled into real life. This is a great way to RP and let it start and stop with the game itself. Hope someone finds something here useful. If nothing else, tell me how you role!